If we Shadows Have Offended
by Thing2BK
Summary: America has been in a coma for a year, only to wake up and discover that a lot can change in that time. New powers rise, old ones crumble, and no one is safe anymore.
1. If we Shadows Have Offended

He didn't remember sleeping.

And yet, here he was waking up.

Blue eyes blinked slowly as America attempted to absorb everything he could about his current location. He was staring at a high white ceiling with one light out of his line of vision, so he could just see the dim glow it was casting. He felt like he should recognize this room, but no memories came to mind. Testing out to make sure he could still move, his hands curled around soft sheets.

"Al? A-are you awake?" He jumped at the soft voice of his younger brother. He could see the blond, but he knew it was him. His voice was thick with concern and shock, which he found confusing. Since when had Matthew ever been too worried about him? Or surprised to see him wake up for that matter.

"Y-yeah." He turned his head to see Canada sitting up on a bed next to him. "Are we in a hospital bro?"

The Canadian laughed sharply, a bitter sound. "I wish. We're in my cabin just north of Sudbury."

America scrunched up his nose, trying to think of where that was. He never could be bothered to remember his brother's provinces. (He still called them states anyway) "Yukon?" He guessed.

His brother sighed, shaking his head. "Ontario. Just a three hour drive from our shared border at the Sault."

"Oh." _That _name he recognized. They'd always joke about the twin cities because they were twins…it was funnier to them than it was to most other people. "Could've just said _that _to begin with."

"How're you feeling?" Canada asked suddenly.

A shrugged, moving to sit up as well. "Not too bad. I've has worse days anyway. Actually, my cold from the debt to China feels like it's gone!"

Canada frowned, and looked at the far wall. "It makes sense I suppose. There's no more United States of America _to be _in debt to China."

America leapt to his feet, leaning against the other bed to get closer. "What?" He was searching the Canadian's violet-blue eyes for some sign that he was joking. Soon, he'd crack a grin and push his head away, calling him so gullible.

There was nothing. Now, with their closeness, Al could see how pale, and sunken his brother's face was. Eyes scanning the bed, he noticed the blond's right leg was heavily bandaged.

Finally, he noticed that he was seeing all of this without his glasses. Without Texas.

"Shit." He muttered, raking a hand through his hair. "What happened?"

Canada grimaced. "You'd been sick, remember? Because of your debt. Your fever got to the point where you slipped into a coma." He bit his lip, clearly unsure of how to continue. "You've been out for over a year."

While America tried to process that, he continued. "A nation isn't as strong when their representative is out of commission. When you went down, China called the debt. Arthur and I did our best to help, but we're not exactly in perfect economical conditions either. If it's any consolation, the States went relatively 'peacefully', so only the heads of state were killed. None of your other citizens were killed as far as I know.

"I think the plan was made a long time ago. Yao's army didn't blink before spreading out to Europe. I managed to get you over the border to my home right before the bombing started here. Apparently Harper finally decided to grow a pair and stand up for us."

"What's the situation like in Europe?" Al interrupted quickly before his brother could get on a rant about his boss.

Canada shook his head, blond curls flying. "The last message I got from Arthur last week. He says he's holding his ground, and China has yet to have turned his attention to the Nordics yet, but… the rest of Europe is gone, either under his control or…" He swallowed. "Gone. Same goes for Asia, South America… everywhere."

"Who's all gone?" He found himself asking before he even really thought about it.

"Almost all of Africa. There's been no word from Gutpa in over three months, so we've assumed the worst. Seychelles was barely spared thanks to France pleading for her life. Sadiq was killed last week during a raid in Athens where Heracles was hiding him. He hasn't gotten to us either so Greece may be gone as well, and Romano is currently MIA."

The list felt so long. Alfred just stood, staring at his bare feet in frustration before something clicked, and he brightened. "What about Ivan? That Ruskie has got to be holding his own, right?" His grin faded when Matthew looked down, pale bangs shielding his face from view. "Right Mattie?

No answer. He sank to his knees beside the bed. "Come on Mattie, tell me, say _something_!"

His soft voice sounded hollow as he answered. "The Russians are standing very strong against China's assaults. They're the only power able to do so." Twin tears seared down either side of his face. "Ivan was reported missing after a stray fighter bombed Moscow a month ago. Ukraine found his scarf in the ruins of his home just before she was taken prisoner, and he was pronounced dead after that."

"Oh God Matt, I'm so sorry." He knew how close the two had been, even if he didn't always like it.

"It's okay. They never found the body so… There's still a chance, right?" Even as he said it, he didn't sound anywhere near hopeful. All that had already gone up in smoke.

"Right." The American confirmed, inwardly shocked at how easily his brother had smothered his sadness. _'Mattie, you really are a trooper.'_ And then he offered one of his biggest, million watt grins. "He's probably getting a team of epic Russian spies and secret agents, and computer-hacking geniuses together to overthrow China as we speak!"

Canada found the strength to smile weakly. "Thanks Al, I knew I could count on you to pull something like that."

"Hey! What're heroic brothers for?"

The silence that followed was interrupted by the cell phone next to the Canadian's bed coming to life, ringing shrilly. Matthew grabbed it quickly. "Arthur! I've got news!" He said with the sharp authority of a soldier. The tone didn't suit him, Alfred noted. Even during the wars, he always remembered hating how it sounded when he talked like that.

"Good to hear boy. All I'm able to say at the moment is that we're still alive. Couldn't have you getting worried."

"Al woke up!"

America could almost see the look of relief washing of England's face. "Hey, Matt, can I talk to him?"

Canada nodded, handing it over. "Alfred? You're really alright?" The Brit's voice sounded hushed, as if saying it too loudly would make it untrue.

"No obvious brain damage yet!" He chirped. "Maybe I'll even get some psychic powers or something. Listen Artie; you take care of yourselves out there, got it? Be careful."

The warm tone in England's voice instantly melted. "I'm not a child, I know _that _you wanker!" Then he continued muttering something about 'putting the intelligent one back on the phone.'

"I'm serious! Just hold on until me and Mattie can get to you guys to help, you're in London right?" Not waiting for a response, he continued. "In fact, we're on our way as we speak." He blew loudly into the phone, making Arthur wince on the other end from the noise. He hung up, and tossed the phone back to Canada. "Alrighty! Time to head out!"

He moved for the door, which he assumed let to the upper levels of the cabin, and then stopped when he realized his brother wasn't following him. "Are you coming?"

"Are you crazy?" The younger nation asked in the exact same expectant tone. He indicated his leg furiously. "I got three bullets in the leg Al, and had to dig around myself to get them out! There's no way I can walk, let alone smuggle myself all the way to London in the midst of a worldwide Chinese invasion!"

"Oh." The American thought for a moment before returning to his brother's bedside, and crouching down. "Hop on bro!" He wiggled his outstretched fingers, as if to tell him to hurry up.

"Are you kidding?"

"Nope. We've gotta help the others save the world!" The tone was cheerful, but at the same time, it held absolutely no room for argument. He was dead serious when it came to being a hero.

Hesitantly, Canada swung his legs over the side of the bed, and gingerly lifted himself onto America's back, arms wrapped tightly around his brother's neck.

"I swear to God, if you drop me, I'm going to kill you." He muttered.

"I know, I know." Alfred grinned, getting back to his feet and heading for the door. "Hey, does this mean you'll teach me the ways of the Jedi, master Yoda?"

He yelped as Canada smacked his head sharply and growled, "There's a time and a place for everything Al!"

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Thanks for reading~!

I really hope this is as good as I think it is, honestly I don't think I've ever felt so good about a new story since…ever.

However, I probably shouldn't even be writing this right now. I've already put two stories on hiatus, and have two more to work on…but this plot just feels so good to write!

Just so you know, some of the pairings and other fun stuff in this will be really cracktastic. If you don't like 'em…well, I've used the ultimate disclaimer in literature history. If you don't like them, it was a dream, and never really happened, okay?

Review to let me know how it is, I can't wait for feedback on this one, and I'll try and keep my author notes short from now on, bye!


	2. Think but this, and all is Mended

Arthur winced at the loud static from the other end of the phone, which was cut off as Alfred hung up. "Bloody hell." He growled, hanging up as well. Still, despite how annoying Alfred was, it was enough to bring a smile to his face that he was awake, and on his way to help. Honestly, sometimes he swore that boy did things like this on purpose to make him worry. He always came into their wars late to 'save the day'. "He must be having a hard time dealing with the fall of his land."

"Arthur? I'm coming in, okay?" Finland called softly, opening the study door. He was carrying a small tray of tea, the thoughtful dear he was. "I thought you could use something…"

"Yes, thank you love. Care to join me?" The normally sharp emerald gaze always seemed to soften considerably when he was talking with Tino. "We just got word from North America." He declared happily as Tino sat down beside him, clearing the smaller chair of blueprints and scribbled notes.

"That's good. How is Matti?"

"He sounded fine, but a little tired. I didn't get as much of a chance to talk with him before Alfred interrupted.

Tino brightened at that. "America woke up?"

"Yes, and he was sounding quite… Alfred."

The Finn burst out laughing, something rare in their current situation. "That's good to hear! I'm sure poor Matti must be wishing he was out cold again!"

"Well, he's happy to have his brother back, I'm sure. But Alfred must have a black eye by now."

(He actually didn't, but his shoulders were a little abused from Matthew not really trusting him at all, and Nantucket was sore from being pulled in irritation.)

"I'll bet." Tino stood up. "I'll go tell the others," But as he turned to leave, Arthur grabbed his wrist firmly.

"No!" He rasped, throat suddenly feeling very dry. "No they shouldn't know just yet."

"Why not?"

"The two are on their way here as we speak. Alfred's hero complex won't let him sit quietly in the cabin, helping us from there like Matthew has been. Not that I mind having his strength to help us, but they've got a dangerous trek ahead of them. If the others know, we runt he risk of any one of them trading the information to China for the safety of their people. It's bad enough that we all know the location of the cabin, and I'm suspicious enough as it is about Lithuania's disappearance."

"You really don't think Toris gave China information, do you? At the time he vanished, he didn't know much anyway."

"I don't know!" Arthur ran a hand through his sandy hair in exasperation. "I don't know who I can trust anymore."

"If no one else, could you trust me?" The Finn asked quietly.

Arthur brought up a hand to cup Tino's face gently, and he smiled. "Good Lord I hope so, love."

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Yao snorted as he watched the display. "Well Toris, it appears your work hasn't been a complete waste of my time. It's about time they talked about something important." He stood up and wandered over to where the younger nation was sitting silently on the long couch. "You should be happy Toris." He murmured, stroking the light brown hair. "Your precious America is awake. We were all starting to get worried he never would."

"I am." He managed to whisper.

"Then why don't you smile for me? After all, he's going to come all this way to 'save the day'. You wouldn't want to have such a haunted expression stuck on your face when he does, would you?"

"No." He turned up to look at Yao, a faint, soft smile touching the corners of his lips. "No, I wouldn't want that at all."

"Good." The lanky nation turned to leave the room, humming cheerfully as he went. Toris slumped back on the couch, and couldn't help but feel like he was back in Russia's house. 'No.' He thought bitterly. 'That place was a haven compared to here.'

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Matthew sighed in content as he lifted his wounded leg onto the dashboard of the mud-spattered jeep. Alfred noted with a frown that his brother was looking even paler than he had inside. "How long have you had holes in your leg bro?"

The Canadian made an irritated noise at his brother's tactlessness. "A little over three days. I was just getting us some supplies when there was another raid. As if they really think the civilians even have the strength to rebel anymore." He muttered, prodding the bandages gingerly before deciding they were fine. "You _do _remember how to drive, don't you?"

The American gave his brother a sarcastic look, followed by a loud 'tisk, tisk.' "You underestimate my awesome skill Mattie!"

"Now you sound like Gil." He shot back with a snort.

"Speaking of which…" Alfred started up the vehicle, and began pulling onto the long, winding dirt road away from the lakeside cabin. "How'd the Gibbster fare in all of this?"

"Well, seeing as he's technically not a nation anymore, China hasn't really paid him that much attention. But he can't exactly offer up any help to us, what with the current situation, it'd be a risk to Ludwig's safety."

Al just couldn't wrap his head around the idea that Yao had gotten his hands on Germany. Somehow, it just didn't seem to fit in any way, shape, or form. Getting captured early one seemed more like an Italy kind of thing. Speaking of which… "How's Feliciano? He must be pretty shaken up what with his brother being missing and all."

"Well…" Matthew's eyes clouded over a little. "Italy and Japan are currently allied to China."

The surprise caused Alfred to jerk the wheel, nearly sending the two careening into a tree. "You're kidding! Kiku too?"

"If it makes you feel any better, Italy's not much more than a hindrance to Yao, and it took Kiku ages to finally break down and help his brother."

Alfred allowed a quiet chuckle at the idea of Feliciano 'helping' Yao. From the stories Ludwig had told him about the time during the Second World War, he figured it'd be pretty funny to see. "So why'd Italy ally in the first place? He can't really support what Yao's doing."

"No. Feliciano's an ally out of fear. It's more like he's a servant in China's house. That's what Arthur told me awhile ago."

Alfred had been about to say, 'sort of like the Baltics were for Russia.' But then he remembered just how hard it had been for his brother to say that Ivan _might _be dead. Now probably wasn't the best time to be bringing up the man's colourful past. "So by the way. Where're we going anyway? You don't happen to have a private jet in the area?"

"Head to the Sault." He murmured sleepily. He'd been up all night watching Alfred; he needed a nap, damnit! "There's an airport there, and from what I've been told, they ship livestock to France sometimes. We can smuggle on a plane, and work from there."

"Alright! Sault Ste. Marie…" He scrunched up his nose in thought. "So I turn left on the highway!"

"Turn right Al! Right, you directionally-challenged idiot!"

Alfred stuck out his tongue at the younger blond, but followed the directions onto the disturbingly quiet highway.

"Who?"

The American jumped, letting out a (totally manly) shriek pass his lips, waking up the now-slumbering Matthew, who started laughing as Kumajirou wriggled out from under the tarp that was stretched across the back of the jeep, yawning.

"Not cool man! That thing is terrifying! It'll eat me in my sleep, I know it!"

"He wouldn't do that, would you Kumataro?"

"No." The bear promised sweetly, flashing a wicked look at Alfred, who was attempting to keep staring at the road, and pretend there wasn't a polar bear relaying so many threats in its dark eyes right beside him.

So focused, he didn't even notice the heavily armoured vehicle quickly approaching them from the rear. It was his brother's strangled yelp that snapped his attention back. He pulled over, hoping it would just pass them and be on its way. But of course, life is never that easy, and it slowed to a stop behind them.

"You know Chinese, right Al?"

"Do I look like Mulan to you?" He snapped, ignoring the Canadian's raised eyebrow, and flashed a shaky grin at the two soldiers who approached the jeep. _"Can I help you?" _He asked in flawless Italian. (Romano used to kick his ass every time he decided that 'Inglorious Bastards' Italian was right. Eventually, with the help of some New Yorkers, he mastered the language out of fear. He'd miss those days.)

"_You an Italian soldier" _One asked, his words much more broken and heavily accented. He was looking suspiciously at the two blonds, while Alfred was desperately hissing to himself, 'Think Italy! Pasta! Beautiful women! Art! Uh…weak! Aww yeah, I'm pro! Like a boss. Fuck yeah!'

Out loud, he managed, _"Yes. We were sent to survey the activities in Sault Ste. Marie." _This much was mostly true. They _were _going to survey what was going on. They just weren't going to report any findings.

"_Your friend. What is wrong with him?" _He was now leaning forward to peer at Matthew, who still had a bandaged leg up on the dash, and was pressed against his door to hide Kumajirou.

"_Resistors. He was lucky they couldn't aim worth shit." _He threw in a light chuckle, which the soldier returned, despite the obvious look on his face that said he barely understood anything of what was being said. Even though they were allies, to find a Chinese soldier who could speak Italian was a lucky break.

"_Move along." _The man said, waving for the boys to leave, which they did quickly, not even daring to breathe until the larger vehicle was far ahead of them.

Matthew sat up, allowing the disgruntled bear to return to his spot between the two, and promptly flopping over to sleep.

"You know, I bet Gilbert's camped out in Ludwig's basement, drinking himself stupid right now." Alfred mused to break the silence.

"That kind of sounds like fun! Hey, you wanna stop there first, and _then _go on to London?"

"You read my mind Mattie!" He cheered, grinning. "But, the hero must always resist temptation, so onward to help Eyebrows McFairyPants and those weird Europeans!"

Matthew groaned, rolling from side to side in irritation. "Why must you be so good all the time? I wanna drink myself stupid too!" He whined, something very odd for Canada to do.

Which was probably why Alfred spent the next twenty minutes or so laughing at the genuinely miserable pout on his brother's face when he still refused to divert from their path for even a minute.

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Thanks for reading~!

Did I lie when I said the pairings would be cracktastic? I think not. Don't even bother asking where any of them came from, because even I'm not quite sure. All I can say is, it got about ten times weirder from the hand-written copy to this one.

Review s'il vous plait? Cyber-hugs all around to those who do!

Next chapter: Al and Mattie continue their journey of epic proportions. Meanwhile, Yao starts "interrogating" prisoners, and Arthur's being worried is rubbing off on the others, even though they don't know what to be worried for.


	3. That You Have but Slumbered here

"Mattie! Mattie Matt, Matt, Matt! Materoo! Matski! Mateo! Mattie Dee! Matt Jack! Damn it! I'm running out of names! Wake up!"

Alfred was vainly attempting to wake up his brother, who was rather successfully ignoring him, face buried comfortably in Kumajirou's fur. The two were still in the jeep, this time tucked carefully into the trees as close to the airport as they could get. The promised airplanes had landed a little while ago, and Alfred wanted to get moving before too many people showed up.

But the Canadian wouldn't wake up. He was really stubborn when it came to sleep habits.

"I swear to God Matt, you get up right now, or I punt your ass all the way to London myself!"

Finally, the blond rolled over, slightly more awake than before, but still not opening his eyes. "No Will, I didn't steal your weed…" He mumbled in his sleep, pushing Al's face away from his. "Ask Francis…actin' funny…"

"Kuma-what'syourface! Get him up!" He whined, poking the bear, who was also stubbornly slumbering. "Lazy damn Canadians…" He muttered.

This woke the blond up pretty quickly. "What'd you call me? Arrogant prick!" He snarled, practically leaping to his feet, only for his bad leg to buckle under his weight. Matthew crumpled to the ground, muttering unintelligible nonsense, similar to whenever he stubbed his toe.

"Our chariot awaits broski." Alfred continued, pointing to the large plane that somehow fit onto the small-town runways. "Ready to put your amazing invisibility to good use?"

"Yeah, yeah. Kuma, you wanna hop into one of the backpacks there?" He was bluntly attempting not to punch his brother again for the crack at his invisibility, though something like that would be useful for their current situation.

The request earned him an annoyed glance from Kumajirou, who just sighed, and wormed his way back under the tarp, even though Alfred was already taking it off again. "You got all kinds of fun stiff in here!" He cheered, already picking up guns cheerfully.

"Just take what you can carry with me still on your back, Al. I'll take the necessities in the backpack." He indicated one of the dark army-green packs, which Kumajirou was already curled up in contently, going back to sleep.

"Okie doke bro!"

Once comfortable, Matthew pointed his brother in the direction of a small shed near the plane. "We'll wait for an opening there." He whispered to his 'ride', who nodded seriously.

"Aaaaanndd…now!" Alfred crowed quietly, charging forward just as a trio of attendants turned to collect another set of massive crates. He put every remaining ounce of whatever remained of his nation strength into the dash, up the stairs, and into the far reaches of the cargo plane, now only under the watchful eyes of several cows, and an irritated chicken.

The two decided on a crate of hay that was only half full as their hiding spot, and settled down for the long flight across the Atlantic. Matthew was asleep again almost right away, but Al stayed up for awhile longer, staring warily at the slow-moving muzzle of the dark brown cow above them. He'd been out for a full year, honestly, he felt like he never wanted to sleep again. They were going to swoop in, and save the day! He was really pumped!

But as much as his mind craved staying awake, taking in everything in their current, boxy world, his body screamed for sleep, and he was helpless to disobey.

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The first thing he was aware of when he woke up again, was that there was a long strand of hay stuck up his nose. The second was a sharp pain on the top of his head. The first problem was easily fixed, he just sat up. The second… well, pulling one's hair out of a hungry cow's mouth is never an easy task.

"Gimmie back Nantucket, Daisy, or whatever the hell your name is!" He growled, glaring darkly at the cow, which just stared back at him with lazy brown eyes.

When the tug-of-war was over, he poked his tender scalp, pouting and eyes slightly damp, and then cautiously slid out of the box to check on their current location.

He was expecting to see nothing but water, or clouds. After all, they couldn't have been up in the air for more than a few hours, right?

He saw land.

A whole lot of land that they were rapidly approaching, confirmed by the fact that his ears plugged up quickly in that annoying airplane sort of way. They weren't ready for this. There was no plan ready for when they landed. Would they just hunker down at the bottom of the crate and escape later? Would they go parachuting? Go out in a Chuck Norris kind of way at the airport, beating the shit out of fifty some-odd guys with machine guns while he only had his fists?

He liked the sounds of the last one, but not the odds.

"Al! Get back here!" He turned from the window to see Matthew was also awake, checking to see that Kumajirou was still sleeping in the backpack before slinging it over his shoulders, and pulling himself up to the edge of the crate. "As soon as the plane shows any signs of slowing enough on the runway, we're getting out and running for it, okay?"

Well _that _was a bit anticlimactic.

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Arthur paced quickly around his study, chewing nervously on his lower lip.

Waiting.

Three days. It had been three whole days since the conversation with Matthew and Alfred. Three days since he learned they were coming to help them. Three days without knowing if they were alive or not.

It was eating him alive. He refused to let anyone come in, not even Tino. The study door was locked tightly, and he refused most food and drink, only caving in when he was really hungry and the Finn was practically begging him to open the door. He hated to think about it, but it was probably bothering the others too, even if they didn't know why.

Still. He couldn't sleep, or work. He couldn't even fix himself a proper cup of tea! How dearly the Brit just wanted to sprint across the room to his desk and call Matthew's cell phone, but how could he? What if they were hiding somewhere, having to keep completely silent to avoid detection? He couldn't call, no matter how much he wanted to, he couldn't.

"What's eating Artie?" Mathias wondered aloud that evening over dinner. The Dane had been fidgeting all day without realizing it, curious as to what could be bothering Arthur so much.

"S'ppose th're must b' a r'son." Berwald mumbled in reply. He was curious too though. They were all curious. Arthur was their _leader_. He was the one that was supposed to remain calm, and get them through this. For him to suddenly break away from the other five was a bit unnerving. And Finland was being oddly tight-lipped about it. Freyr and Andreas had already tried to get him to talk, but he was used to being stared down, so their 'silent persuasion' wasn't all that persuasive.

He'd promised not to breathe a word about the twins, and he was a Finn, about as stubborn as they come. But even he didn't know how long he could last without blurting out something about everything.

It didn't help that all the others seemed to _know _that Tino knew something. He could feel each and every different pair of eyes boring into him, as if daring him to continue the charade.

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Thanks for reading~!

Uh, I guess I lied. China does not make an appearance this chapter. He was going to, but I really wasn't feeling it so…next time, definitely! Next chapter will probably be a lot longer now, seeing as I'll throw China's scene in there on top of what I've already got written, which is about 4 pages handwritten so…that'll be nice for you guys!

As always, reviews make me smile! (And now seeing as I had lots of fun writing the crack pairings I've got so far, if you've got any requests, just throw them out there, and I should be able to fit them in :D)


	4. While These Visions did Appear

Arthur nearly choked on his tea when he saw two figures approach the front door slowly from the camera they had perched above it. They were both wearing caps, making identification nearly impossible from the angle, and one was leaning heavily on the other's shoulder as he pointed out the buzzer for the other to press impatiently. _Soldiers? _He found himself thinking. _No. They wouldn't send only two. Two…maybe it's…_ "Answer normally, would you Andreas?" Arthur asked quickly to the Norwegian beside him, who nodded, though not without giving him a strange look.

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Matthew had come to a new conclusion over their travels. Three days without clean bandages really took their toll on gunshot wounds that hadn't been properly seen to. He could feel the infection settling itself comfortably in the limb, pulsing with his heartbeat to spread throughout the rest of him. Twice, Alfred had noted that he had a fever, and twice, the Canadian had insisted that they keep going.

Now, as they at last approached their haven, he felt about ready to collapse. A thin sheen of sweat now covered his entire face as he directed Al to the button.

"_What have you brought with you, strangers?" _Alfred jumped as Norway's cool voice crackled through the speakers, and was about to yell that it was him, the hero, when his brother clamped a hand weakly over his mouth.

"I've brought freshly cooked pancakes. My friend here has a six-pack of Sam-Adams!"

There was a moment's pause, likely in surprise, before Andreas buzzed open the door. _"It's good to know you're alright." _He murmured.

"So was that thingy back there a password?" Al asked, letting Matthew scramble onto his back again as they walked through the now-open door.

"Yeah. With that method, it's unique for all of us, and it's harder to intercept." The blond gasped suddenly, wincing at the fiery jolt of pain that seized his leg.

"But why Sam Adams? You know I'm a Coors man!" He stopped from a would-be tirade about how little his brother cares for his taste in beer when he saw the man standing at the end of the hallway. "Wassup Iggster?"

Arthur all but flew at them, wrapping the two in an awkward, (what with Alfred's arms a little preoccupied, and Matthew being a human backpack) but warm hug. "Learn proper English, you git." He murmured affectionately.

"Aw, but if I did that, I couldn't bug you with my epic street-talk all the time." He paused for a moment, before adding "yo" with a cheeky grin.

"I'll box your ears if you keep that up." Finally, he peered over at Matthew, who looked pained. "Good Lord, what's happened Matthew?"

"He went shopping!" Alfred explained cheerfully, though concern was obvious in his bright eyes. "And they gave him three bullets all for free, wasn't that nice of them?"

"Only _you _could make light of something like this. Come on, let's get him to the hospital wing."

The Brit let the way down the corridor, with a tired Alfred, and a nervous Kumajirou, whose claws clicked quietly on the tiled floor, following like a funeral procession.

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"So how many humans do you have here?" The American asked, passing his brother to several white-clad men, who took him to the adjacent operating room.

"Enough. We only need doctors, really. Come on lad, we'll come back to see him once they're done patching him up."

Al reluctantly followed Arthur away from the wing, and into a small living space. The other surviving nations were already waiting there for their arrival. "Welcome back to the world of the living!" Mathias cheered, clapping Alfred heartily on the shoulder.

"It's good to be back!" The American grinned right back. "Please tell me you still have massive stockpiles of your weird European beer!"

"What? _You _didn't bring any?" Freyr asked, raising an eyebrow curiously over the pages of the thick novel he was reading.

"Artie! They're being mean to me!" He wailed, flinging himself at the Brit, sniffling loudly. "And after I came all this way to save the day!"

Arthur sighed, peeling the blond off of him like a stubborn sunburn. "Has someone started dinner yet?" He asked the others while Alfred continued to sob in a corner.

"Berwald and Tino." Andreas replied simply, pointing to the Swede's now-retreating figure as he hurried to check whatever was on the stove, (that was bound to start smelling phenomenal in a few minutes) and a flour-speckled blond.

"Do you two need any help?" Arthur offered, getting to his feet.

Tino _actually _looked about to agree, before Berwald appeared in the doorway, glaring, and every other nation in the room let out a resounding 'NO!' and the Brit sat back down with a pout.

"Can we go see Mattie now?" Al pleaded suddenly; apparently he was over being made fun of.

"It's only been ten minutes, Alfred. I doubt they're done just yet. We'll bring him dinner once he's in recovery, alright?"

The American's hopeful gin sank, and he went back to his corner, this time accompanied by an equally as putout polar bear.

"Who?"

"America, little buddy." He sighed, scratching Kumajirou's ear. "The hero." The others had now started discussing Canada's condition, now that Al had brought it up, but neither of the two in the corner paid them any mind. It was nothing they didn't already know.

"Oh. I thought you might be _him_."

No need to tell Alfred who _he _was. He wasn't _that _stupid. "We'll go see him later, okay Komozeezee?"

Snorting in irritation at the butchering of his name, he made a jerky motion, similar to a nod, and curled up on the carpet beside him.

{}}{{}

"Damnit Francis! You were with them more recently than anyone else! You know their security system! Tell me how to get in!" Yao roared, throwing another well-aimed kick to the side of the Frenchman's already stained head.

"If you're so desperate to know, why don't you just ask your precious Lithuania?" Francis spat. "I'm sure he'd be more than happy to tell you everything you want."

"You know, it's times like these where I miss the old France. You would've never been so difficult about this. You would've given up without a fight, and then gone off being the pervert you've always been, throwing information at me."

"The old France probably would've asked for _favours _first though, but yes, I miss him too." He struggled to keep his now-hollow voice even. For once, he was shedding the skin of being a perverted coward. Right now, he had to stand strong, even though he could barely stand at times here. He couldn't cave in and just hand over the information.

This was his _family _that was at risk. _His _Mathieu, _his _Arthur, and yes, there were times when he'd claim Alfred as family too. To tell Yao where Arthur was, would lead him straight to the twins, and they would all die.

But as long as he was all that stood in the way of the Chinese army marching over more land, then he would stay.

And so, with a voice like chipped ice, he stated loud and clear for Yao, "You will _never_ get at them."

Amber eyes flashed with rage, but it was fleeting. Yao stood up and stretched, before turning to leave. "You're wrong Francis. I'll find them all, and when I do…" The rage was back, gleaming with a fierce inferno behind the eyes. "I'll kill each one of them before you. Then and only then, will you die as well."

And with that, he left the cold cell, slamming the door shut behind him with a thunderous clang.

{}}{{}

An hour slipped by, and Tino called everyone to eat. While others were sitting down, Alfred just grabbed two plates filled with foods that he had no names for, and made his way to the hospital wing in determination, followed by Arthur.

"So, Mattie told me all kids of stuff on our epic trip here." The taller blond started, a large grin spreading across his face.

"Oh?" Arthur replied stiffly. He could almost hear the words spilling out of that brat's mouth before it was even open.

"He says there's a pretty little someone giving you _sokerin_!" He watched in satisfaction as the Brit's ears turned dark red.

He was expecting a bitch-fest of epic proportions from the man, but all he said was, "When did you learn Finnish?"

"Matt taught me some on the way here, just so I could tease you!" (This was only sort of true. Matthew had attempted to actually teach him the language, but he only picked up words that he could use against Arthur).

"Well if you tease Tino about it, I'll personally make you regret ever waking up!"

"Aye, aye Cap'n!" He probably would've saluted too, were it not for the plates still in his hands.

{}}{{}

The Canadian was sitting up in the narrow hospital bed, reading. He looked up suddenly as the two walked in, and beamed at them groggily. Apparently the drugs hadn't worn off just yet. "Good to know you still think of my Al, I'm starved."

"Who said this was for you?" Alfred held both plates out of his reach, sticking out his tongue. "I'm a growing boy, Mattie, and invalids like you should be eating hospital food anyway."

"The only way you're growing is outward." The blond growled, reaching for one of the crutches leaning against the wall beside him, and swung it threateningly close to his brother's face.

"Okay! I surrender! Please put the phallic symbol down!" He yelped, thought he corners of his mouth were twitching upwards as he did so.

"In what way is a crutch phallic?"

The American grinned, handing Matt the plate. "When you adjust it for your height!" He chirped in a very 'well duh' tone of voice. "All that sliding in and out, in, and –OW!" He jumped pretty high when Arthur tugged on his ear in irritation.

"Have some grace about yourself, you git!" Turning to Matthew, his expression softened. "How're you fairing?"

"Pretty good, looking forward to my office."

Arthur groaned and rolled his eyes. "I did promise you one, didn't I?"

"You did. Besides, I need a tech-cave."

"Well that was only because I wasn't actually expecting you to ever end up in Europe."

"What's this? Office? Cave? Explain people!" Alfred shouted, mouth already full, flailing his arms.

"Your brother's been helping me with most of our plans, including the password system you witnessed when you got here, as well as the plan we're going to explain to everyone tonight."

"Really? You're like our techie Matt?"

"Not _like _a techie, I _am _the techie." Matthew corrected with a smirk.

Whatever the American was going to reply with was cut off by the buzzer crackling to life throughout the entire building. It was wired to be answered from any room in the facility (Berwald's idea) so that no one had to be in a little computer room at all times just waiting for people to show up.

Confused, Arthur reached over, and hit the speaker on the wall behind him, cleared his throat, and asked, "What have you brought with you?"

A pause, and then a single-worded answer that noting could have prepared them for.

"_Vodka." _

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Thanks for reading~!

Whatever will happen next? Well chapter five of course! That was both a hassle, and incredibly fun to write, so I hope you enjoyed it!

Review please? I will love you forever if you do =3


	5. And This Weak and Idle Theme

Arthur stood agape at the childish voice, that was now humming in thought, wondering aloud if they'd changed the password without telling him. No way. There was no way this was happening. He turned to Matthew, who was already reaching for the crutches again, and pulling himself to his feet. The other two nations seemed frozen in place, but Matthew was up and gone in a matter of seconds. The Canadian nearly tripped several times; mind wanting to move faster than his body would let him.

The only thing keeping him upright was the silent mantra falling from his lips like a prayer. "He's alive, he's alive, he's alive!"

Crutches were abandoned as he flew into Ivan's unsuspecting arms, making the man take several steps backwards to keep from falling from the force. Matthew was crying and laughing all at the same time, kissing any part of the Russian's face he could find.

Ivan laughed, and pressed him close. "I missed you too Matvey."

"I thought you were dead!"

"It takes a lot more than that to kill me, I can promise you that."

Arthur and Alfred watched the scene unfold from a distance, still in a bit of shock that the Russian was alive, _and _had found their base and remembered the password.

"Matthew, would you be a dear and let the poor man inside?" The Brit finally called.

With a sheepish smile, the blond ducked his head, and carefully lowered himself to the floor, picking up the discarded crutches as he did, and led Ivan by the hand back into the living space, where the Nordics were already assembled.

"Welcome back Ruskie." Alfred said, almost as an afterthought. "Couldn't for the life of me figure out a battle plan against Yao that didn't involve you as my backup!"

He was expecting Ivan to glare at him, be annoyed at his hero complex. He wasn't expecting the man to calmly nod, even chuckle a bit as he sat down on the loveseat next to the Canadian.

"So, Ivan." Arthur started, clearing his throat. "Care to tell us where you've been all this time?"

The violet gaze darkened slightly, and he nodded. "There's not that much to tell. Bombs fell on my home, and I lived. Once I saw some of Yao's men digging through the rubble of the house, I abandoned my scarf, hoping that they'd decide I was dead, and I went to find my sisters. But by the time I was able to get to the borders, I heard the announcement of Ukraine's capture, and figured Belarus wouldn't be too far behind, so finding you seemed to be my best option at the time."

"'nd this t'k y' a month?" Berwald asked, one eyebrow raised.

"Well, I had to check everywhere…" His pale face turned faintly pink, and he continued, "Canada has a lot of houses and camps." He finished simply.

"You checked_ all _of them?" Matthew asked, mouth hanging slightly open. He _did _have at least one apartment or house in most provinces, and a cottage like the one he and Alfred had just come from, on both coasts, and in Ontario. For Russia to sneak around the entire country to check them without being caught was a miracle alone.

"Da. Except the one you actually were in, apparently."

"Yes, that one's a well-kept secret."

"Well, anyway, it was all fairly easy until I got to the apartment in Ottawa. I was nearly seen by all of China's men searching it. I believe they were waiting for you to show up."

"So, Yao is looking for Mattie?" Alfred jumped at the thought, running to hug his brother. "The hero will never let that guy take his brother! You're too pretty for jail Matt!" He whimpered, bottom lip quivering pitifully.

"Thank you for being the five-hundredth person to say that." The blond deadpanned, glaring blankly at Alfred's hands. "And it's more likely that he was looking for you, anyway."

"Why would he be looking for a comatose nation he's already destroyed?" Freyr mused quietly.

"Well…" The Canadian didn't want to flat-out say it was because he was usually looked over, and even if Yao could remember about the Northern nation, he would likely figure him to be useless as a bargaining chip. It was typically embarrassing for him to admit it, both for him, and the nations who forgot him. "He'd have more of a reason to want Al, out cold or not."

"But you're the techie Matt!" Alfred was still wibbling. It wasn't really an attractive look for him. "And related to me, so you're totally sexy and hot too! Why _wouldn't _Yao want you?"

They quickly switched topics to something a bit more light-hearted. They needed to enjoy their moment of peace. For war would soon be upon them.

{}}{{}

Toris had finally calmed himself down when Yao re-entered the room. "Francis has turned out to be useless as well." The dark-haired man sighed. "I suppose if nothing else, we could use him as bait to lure out the others, right Toris?"

"Right." He murmured, watching Yao flit smoothly across the room to sit in front of the computer screens with a pair of headphones wrapped snugly around his head. He could usually stay quiet like that for a few hours, just watching the survivors struggle in attempt to beat him.

The Lithuanian stood, and moved to the small kitchenette, and started on the tea. Yao would want tea soon.

Maybe today would be a good day to ask about the others. About Ravis and Eduard. Even though they weren't brothers, they'd always felt like a little, patchwork family. And he hadn't heard a single word about their current situation in months. Yao always went quiet when he dared to ask about them.

He made the tea carefully. Green tea with a bit of honey, Yao's favourite, and set it up on a tray to take out to the older nation.

"Y-Yao? I made tea." Toris said quietly, even though the man couldn't hear him because of the headphones.

He didn't move for the cup, even as the tray slid almost directly under his hand. That was a bit odd for him. "Is everything okay?"

Slowly, ever so slowly, he turned to face the standing nation. Amber eyes were glazed over with anger, with disgust, with loathing. "You fool!" He spat, tearing off the headphones.

Toris took a step back, terrified by the sudden mood swing. "Wh-what's wrong?"

"What's wrong? _What's wrong?_ Look at this, and you tell me, _what's wrong_!" One strong arm shot out, grabbing the Lithuanian by his scalp, and forcing him to stare at the screen, specifically where the nine surviving nations were settled in the living room.

_Nine._

Settled comfortably on a dark red loveseat, one arm wrapped casually around Canada's shoulders, was Russia.

"What the-?" He was cut off as the Asian sent him flying across the room.

"You told me he was dead! That there was no way he could've survived the bombing!"

"I thought he was! I saw the house fall myself, and I knew he was inside! No one could have survived that!"

"And yet he lives! Here he is! Right there, _smiling_! Acting like nothing's wrong! I was hoping I wouldn't have to deal with Canada and America, but one is injured, and I can work around it, but _this_! This was completely unplanned for! And it's _your _fault!"

"Please! I had no idea, I'm so sorry." Pleading was the only way Toris knew to avoid Yao's wrath. After years of living with Russia, he could dance around the man's twisted emotions with ease, but this had only been a few months. He didn't know what to do but hope that the man's fury would subside.

"You could have very well just cost me this war." He snarled, whipping out a gun from the folds of his robe, and pressing it to the pale brown hair of the nation kneeling before him.

Wide blue eyes stared up at him, shining with unshed tears. _Those lying eyes._

He pulled the trigger without a second thought.

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Thanks for reading~!

If it makes you feel any better, my English teacher thinks I'm insane now, as does the class, seeing as I started bawling that I'd killed Lithuania in the middle of the class… I'm not allowed to do the hand-written stuff at school anymore.

But that first bit of the chapter…I love it, it's so happy, and as much as this entire story has changed in my many drafts, that part has always stayed the same because I love it so!

Review to save lives! There's no telling how many more I'll kill if there aren't enough reviews to make me smile… that's a subtle enough threat, right?


	6. No More Yielding but a Dream

The barbeque chip in Alfred's hand slipped out if his grasp, and hit the floor, shattering. And for once, the blond didn't make a huge deal about the loss of food. He was a bit too busy staring at Arthur and Matthew, who'd just revealed the plan they'd apparently been working on for weeks before Al had even woken up.

"Come again?" He asked dumbly.

"You heard the plan loud and clear Alfred. It'd be senseless to repeat." Arthur snapped, rubbing his temples in annoyance.

"B-but, you're kidding, right? There's no way that's seriously the plan! It could go wrong at every turn!"

"Trust us Al, we've gone over every possible plan, and this one seems to be our best shot. We'll vacate the building tonight, if that's alright with you guys." The Canadian answered calmly, with a small shake of his head.

"Do you really think he'll come if we send out a signal?" Andreas sounded sceptical. But then again, he was always hesitant about things like that.

"We know he will." It was clear that Arthur was trying desperately to sound sure of himself. "He's desperate to get his hands on anything he possibly can, and we're the only resistance. He won't be able to resist."

"But Artie…" Alfred started again. "If we fail, you do realize we won't have another shot, right?"

"America, being serious? This really is an apocalypse!" Mathias joked loudly, but the heaviness of what the American had said was now hanging darkly over all the nations assembled at the makeshift conference/poker table.

"So are we all in agreement?" Attention reverted back to the Brit as he addressed them, green eyes flashing with determination.

Tino was the first to stand, and nod. "I'll stand by you both on this." He declared, with all the _sisu _a centuries-old Finn could muster into one facial expression. His smile grew minutely at the grateful expression that flashed across Arthur's face, and he winked quickly.

"Me too." Ivan stood to his full, intimidating height, matched only by Berwald, who was the next to agree.

Not to be left out, Alfred was next, giving Matthew's shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "Guess I'll have to take your word for this one bro. We'll charge in and kick his sorry ass."

One by one, everyone stood, each with an expression resembling a mix of determination and fear.

"So it's settled then." Matthew called over them. "We'll send the humans away within the hour, and prepare to leave for France."

Despite how supportive he'd decided to be about the whole thing, Alfred couldn't help but groan a little. "I can't believe we're _driving _to China from _France_."

The Brit snorted again. "It's not like we've got much of a choice! Besides, the vans that are hidden at Francis' home are quite spacious. We can swap out so that only one person is awake at a time, driving, and the others can sleep. There won't be a reason to stop, except for gas."

"That's still days of travel."

"Do you have any better ideas?"

There was a moment's pause, and the American sat back down, pouting.

"Any other objections?"

The table was silent.

{}}{{}

And that's how nine nations ended up piled into a pair of dark vans, heading east through the war-torn homes of their allies. The first van had all the Nordics in it, that seemed like the obvious choice. While America, Canada, England, and Russia were in the second. Really, all they were missing was France, and they'd have hell-in-a-box.

"When are you gonna let me drive Artie?" Alfred whined, kicking the back of the Brit's seat impatiently.

"When you stop being a nuisance!" He growled, emerald eyes glazed over with a combination of irritation, and exhaustion.

"Maybe you should let him drive for awhile." Matthew suggested calmly. "You're looking really tired."

"Poppycock, I can go for another two hours, at least." He winced. Poor choice of words, given that it was _America _of all nations in the backseat.

Sure enough, the blond sniggered into his hand. "You said cock, Iggster."

"I damn well know what I said you bloody wanker! Now shut up or you'll wish you were still in a coma!"

Silence fell over those in the van at Arthur's outburst. He was a bit red in the face from snapping like that. He liked to keep his 'gentlemanly' composure at all times, and to lose it like that…

"Geez Artie, this is why people like you shouldn't date people like Tino. He's too innocent, and you get grumpy when you're not getting any."

Matthew had to grab the wheel as Arthur turned around to throttle the laughing American. Ivan simply slid a little further out of the way and watched in amusement. At least until the Canadian started screaming, "Brake Arthur! Brake!"

Still with his hands around Alfred's throat, he complied, forcing the van to come to a sudden halt, as did the van behind them. Rage slightly subsided; he turned to see why he'd been forced to stop so abruptly.

There was a single person standing in the middle of the road, doubled over, as if out of breath. A thick green hoodie obstructed the person's face, but it appeared to be a woman. Curious, Arthur slid out of the vehicle, followed by Matthew and Ivan, and finally Alfred, who was still rubbing his neck, looking slightly miffed.

"Can we help you?" Matthew called cautiously, taking a step closer.

The figure stood up straight, and the hood fell back, making all the assembled nations blink in surprise.

"Thank God I caught up with you. I didn't think I'd make it." Belgium smiled. "Thought I'd…" She wobbled a little where she stood. "…Have to walk all the way to China myself." Her legs gave out, and she collapsed on the pavement where she stood.

{}}{{}

Francis couldn't have told anyone when in his captivity he'd found the loose stone, but when he did, he became so fixated on prying it free that nothing else seemed to matter. This monomania was deepening by the minute. He no longer even cared that his once perfectly manicured nails cracked and broke. He just continued to claw at the stone in desperation.

And then, it just fell out to the other side with a dull thud, and a soft yelp of surprise from whichever nation happened to be captive on the other side. "Who-who's there?"

He recognized that voice. "Antonio? Is that you?"

"Francis! Mi Amigo!" The Spaniard's tanned face appeared in the space made by the stone, and his eyes brightened considerably. "You look like shit."

"You look no better mon ami."

He laughed weakly at that. "I suppose you're right. But I doubt anyone looks good after months of rotting in a dungeon."

"Ah, but of course, I'm still the most gorgeous nation alive!" Francis teased, even throwing in one of his famous hair-flips, albeit a weak one. The wide smile on his face fell slightly as he returned from his moment of reliving what was once normal for them. "I can't help but feel partly responsible for all of this."

"What are you talking about? This is nobody's fault but Yao's!"

"But Arthur and I, as well as so many others were cruel to him. It was more than enough to make him want to snap."

Antonio hummed in thought, before shaking his head; even tough Francis couldn't really see it. "I don't think that's the reason."

"Non? And why is that?"

"Because if that were the reason, you'd be tortured daily just so Yao could get his kicks for the day, not for information. Besides, he would have focussed more on capturing England, Russia, and America before all of us. They were the worst offenders. However, this is not the case. They still run free, and it's just you and the rest of the world in here."

"He bombed America." The blond pointed out, though the argument _was _really weak, even he was aware of that.

"Just as an excuse to start the war." There went his feeble argument. "By the way, do you know how Alfred is?"

"Last I heard, before I got caught, Mathieu was taking care of him."

They were interrupted by the loud, hurried storm of footsteps running past their doors. "What's going on?" Antonio wondered aloud.

"I don't know…" The Frenchman got up shakily to his feet, and walked over to the door of his cell, peering through the bars on the small window to see what was likely all the guards in the entire prison running towards the exit. "What's happening?"

Most ignored him, but one man stopped, snapped something hurriedly in his own language with a minute sneer, and continued on.

"Did you catch that?"

There was no answer.

"Francis! Did you understand him?"

"Oui." He whispered, throat suddenly feeling like cotton. "They've found the location of the other nations." Antonio paled at the answer. "They're going to attack."

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Thanks for reading~!

*Looks at reviews* Well, I suppose that enough to keep everyone alive for one more chapter, but that's _all _I'm promising here.

But you'll still review, right? Because you know how happy they make me, and when I'm happy…there's less killing! =D


	7. Gentles Do not Reprehend

Ivan took his turn at the wheel while the twins cared for Belle in the back, and Arthur dozed off in the passenger seat. "How do you think she avoided Yao?" The Russian asked, trying to break the silence that had fallen over the entire vehicle. "Both of her brothers were taken fairly early on, so I assumed that she had been as well."

"Spain had been keeping her safe." Matthew replied, brushing a few strands of fair hair from the sleeping woman's face. "When we lost contact with him, we lost her as well. We thought the Chinese army had taken her too."

"Seems like no one knows what's going on anymore." Alfred sighed.

"We know what we are fighting, comrade." Ivan murmured, violet eyes hard as they watched the road. "And that's enough for now."

{}}{{}

When Belle woke up, it was already the next morning, and Arthur was taking another driving shift. Her head was resting on something sort of, actually, _really_ comfy, which turned out to be Matthew's lap. Blushing, she quickly sat up, rubbing her neck and yawning. "Arthur?"

Emerald eyes shot up to the mirror, and the Brit smiled. "Morning."

"W-what happened?"

"I was about to ask you the same thing. You just showed up in front of us and passed out, how could you not have an explanation?" The words were sharp, but the tone was far from accusing. He'd probably been driving for quite awhile.

"I should wait until the others wake up before explaining…"

"I wouldn't count on that being anytime soon. The git's been out for twelve hours, and he's been known to sleep for days on end. Or a year, more recently. And those two look far to comfortable to get up anytime soon." He was now looking pointedly at Matthew, who was sleeping against Ivan's shoulder. They did both look comfortable. "So tell me how you ended up nearly getting run over by our little group?"

Her eyes darkened, and Belle looked out the window at the trees melting by. "When Spain was invaded by China, Antonio told me to run north, while he went to make sure Lovino was alright. I told him it was useless, what with the Chinese-Italian alliance still being fresh, but he was confident that they'd listen to him, and so he left."

Her frown grew deeper as she recalled it. "He left his own nation to burn at the hands of Yao's men, all for the sake of the children who all but abandoned him centuries ago."

"You can't really blame him. No one's thinking straight these days."

"I suppose. But the fact remains that as far as I know, the last thing Lovino did before going missing was to turn Antonio in. I found out a few days after I'd reached my homeland. The humans don't know much, but the rumours were that a high-ranking Spanish soldier was turned in by a Southern Italian, and that was the end of Spain as we know it.

"Anyway, I decided to start towards China, don't ask me why, and then I felt your presence in my lands. I didn't think I'd make it, but here I am."

"So you came to find us."

"That's right. I thought…" She stopped as several vehicles appeared on the horizon. "Arthur. What are those?" They were dark, and heavy looking. Like fast-moving tanks.

"Chinese military vehicles." The Brit was already shaking Alfred awake, mouth set in a grim line. "How the bloody hell did they know we'd left?"

"Whazzat?" Alfred let out a snort as he woke up, wiping a trail of drool from the corner of his mouth. "Artie, that wouldn't happen to be a few heavily-armed enemy vehicles rapidly approaching us, would they?"

"Yes, now for heaven's sake, make yourself useful! I didn't wake you up so you could complain!"

Yawning, Alfred undid his seatbelt, and scrambled to the back, where their weapons and Matthew's laptop were already prepared for their infiltration. "It's at times like these where I wish that bazookas were more portable." He muttered. "Those could've done some real damage."

Arthur watched the vehicles warily, trying to look for a possible escape route at the same time. "If they try to open fire, I'm going to drive us into the rye fields, okay?"

Belle nodded, even though it was more of a rhetorical question. "Should I wake the others?"

"Not unless they open fire on us, in which case, you won't have to."

"R-right." She turned back to look at Alfred, who was readying their meagre artillery in preparation for the inevitable assault.

As if sensing the tension hanging around the van, Ivan and Matthew woke up, and took one look at the Chinese military vehicles, and no further explanation was needed. The entire group fell silent. Arthur's grip on the wheel was tight enough to make his knuckles look like a sheet of paper. Alfred had his finger on the trigger of a machine gun, unsure of how much good it would be against armed vehicles. They were seconds away from the approaching enemy now. Closer. Closer.

And they passed.

Just like that. No confrontation, not even a sign that they were suspicious of the two black vans. Arthur let out a heavy sigh of relief.

Alfred on the other hand, was not so amused. "Bullshit! You can't honestly be so anticlimactic, can you? Damnit Yao! You can suck it! Taking away my totally amazing heroic showdown like that! I swear to God, when I get my hands on him, I'll wring his pathetic neck!"

"Get in line comrade." Ivan murmured, settling back down to a more relaxed position. "And get back in your seat too, before you get thrown through a window or something."

Grumbling, the American complied, but not before blinking in surprise. "Hey, when did pot-head's sister wake up?"

The other four in the van had to fight the urge to roll their eyes, and try not to laugh when he continued glaring at them, asking, 'what?'

They almost had to keep reminding themselves that they were heading off to kill someone they'd once considered an ally.

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Thanks for reading~!

Woohoo! I'm not dead! But school exams are coming up in a couple weeks, so I won't have too much time to write, but I now have a good idea of where I'm going with this. Sorry this chapter's short, but it was either that or take another week to get this written, _and _there's a good possibility Norway would've died. However, this was kind of a boring chapter. It gets better from here, promise.

One of my friends questioned how the hell they could drive from France to China, to which I say: Do not question me! It's totally possible with the power of plot devices!

Thank you for your patience! Please review! (I'm not going to make any more threats I know who's going to die, and there is no longer anything that can be done to save them.)


	8. If you Pardon We shall Mend

Back in the second van with the Nordics, Mathias had taken up the annoying habit of asking if he could drive every ten minutes or so. Once Freyr gave in, and let the Dane drive, he began his retaliation of 'are we there yet?' maybe just a bit too happily.

They'd lost track of how many days they'd been driving. Surviving solely on gas station food, which they got whenever they stopped to refuel. They'd agreed to remain in Russia as long as they could. It was pretty much the last safe haven in the world. But their days of safety were over. They were mere hours away from their final destination, and Tino had begun rambling nervously whenever the others went silent.

"I should be staying behind with Matti, I'm not ready for something like this, I haven't fought since the Winter War, I've gone soft!"

"Relax kid!" Mathias shouted, trying not to sound too irritated. "I don't think anyone's really ready for this. We've just gotta give it our best shot. And you _are _the best shot." He added the last bit, almost as an afterthought, grinning at the smallest Nordic, who smiled weakly back.

"W're gettn' close." Berwald mumbled suddenly.

Andreas nodded curtly. "I believe Matthew has wires for us to wear so he can direct us through China's home. We have to stop at their van before we head out."

"Well it's not like we were just going to go on our own, without them at all." Freyr shot back.

Just as the Norwegian was about to shout something back, Tino interrupted. "Now, now. Brothers shouldn't start fighting at times like this."

This caused Freyr to slip into a minor fit of depression, slumping down in the passenger seat, and frowning darkly out the window. He hated being reminded that he and Andreas were related.

Berwald suppressed a sigh. This really wasn't the right morale the team should have for 'saving the world' as America had so eloquently put it.

{}}{{}

As the vans pulled into a small clearing close enough to China's home so that Matthew could access the cameras, but far enough so that any guards remaining wouldn't spot them, the nations began changing into their 'espionage garb' that Berwald had made. Solid black t-shirts, pants, and military boots. Arthur had thrown in a personal touch of a long black coat, and both Alfred and Freyr opted for fingerless gloves. Tino had also thrown a black hoodie over top, claiming that it would make him look more intimidating should they meet any guards. Mathias has just laughed. Even now, he was still snickering every time he glanced over at the Finn, whose face was now thoroughly reddened.

Everyone was ready and armed to the teeth as the vans finally pulled to a halt.

"Everybody out!" Alfred called from the back of the first van. Matthew was perched on a foldout chair with his laptop sitting on his lap, and a little white box of wires in his hand.

"These will be more of an assurance that you'll be able to contact me at all times." The Canadian explained softly. "I won't be able to guide you very much, so you'll just be looking for imprisoned nations, anything we can use, and of course, Yao himself."

"But you have blueprints, don't you?"

"Yes, but they're fairly out of date. We don't know how much has moved around, and I don't want to be directing you to the wrong locations. I'll do my best to hack into the security camera systems, but until then, I'm as good as blind."

"Alright then lad. You get the wires ready, and I'll divide the groups." Arthur ordered quickly.

It was decided that Alfred, Arthur, Tino, Berwald, and Freyr (because he and Andreas refused to be on a team together just in case they started another argument) would go looking for Yao, while Andreas, Mathias, Ivan, and Belle would look for the imprisoned nations and attempt to free them. Belle had flashed Arthur a grateful look that he was letting her go look for Antonio, even though that was never brought up at all.

Once the plan was set, they turned to Matthew, who was balanced on one leg so that he could place the earpieces in each nation's ear, and ran a quick check. Ivan was last, and he had to stand on a chair to reach, as he'd done with Berwald.

"Be careful." The blond whispered.

"Now Matvey, when have I not been careful?" Ivan murmured with a smile, kissing him softly.

"Just make sure you come back."

"I promise."

"Hey, you two wanna have a good-bye fuck too, or are we going?" Matthew blushed a furious shade of red at the sound of his brother's impatient voice, and sat back down quickly.

"Well then, good luck everyone. Hopefully the next time we meet will be under a more peaceful sky."

"You can count on us Matti!" Tino cheered, previous doubts vanishing in the moment, as they headed towards Yao's mansion.

Matthew gave one last wave before turning back to his laptop, fingers already flying across the keys as he searched for any kind of access to Yao's security cameras.

_It's Showtime. _

{}}{{}

"Mattie! Is this Yao's office thingy?"

"No Al, the office is-." He was cut off yet again, as the American moved to the next door and repeated his question.

"Lad, over here!" Arthur hissed from where he was standing with the others in front of a larger door. "This is the one."

He grinned, and hurried over, pushing his way through so that he could lead the way into the room. His grin faded almost instantly when the smell of death hit him full force. He suppressed the urge to gag, and attempted to sound calm.

"Someone catch the lights?" He asked, and Berwald quickly found the switch on the wall, and flicked it.

There was a slight figure underneath a pale blanket on the dark red couch against the far wall. Pinned to the cloth was an envelope which, when they approached it, read _America_ in a thin, careful hand. One that was used to calligraphy.

Alfred reached for it with a slightly shaking hand, and opened it, resisting the urge to whip off the blanket to see who was dead. Who Yao had left for them to find.

_It's a shame I couldn't be here myself to meet you and your friends. I'm afraid I have smarter things to do than stand right in your line of fire. But don't worry, we should all be seeing each other soon enough. I should have known your dear brother would've hidden you anyway. That would have made things much easier for me._

_It was very tempting to order my men to shoot you the other day, when they saw you driving towards my home. I had to send my men to your base, just in case you really were that stupid. But I had my suspicions you'd be here._

_Give my regards to Ivan. After all, it's his fault that your friend lies dead before you. I won't tell you who it is though, I'd hate to ruin a good surprise, but if Ivan had just died in Moscow like he was supposed to, there would be another still among us. Just thought you should know._

_-Yao._

"Alfred? What does it say?" Freyr asked quietly.

"Yao knew we were coming!" The blond shouted, tears of rage pricking his eyes. "He knew it, and sent his men to our base anyway! The bastard is mocking us!" With an angry sniff, he finally reached for the blanket, and drew it back.

Toris' sightless eyes met Alfred's, and the latter broke right there, and wept. Out of instinct, Arthur turned Tino towards him, and the Finn held on to Arthur's shirt as if for dear life, not wanting to believe who was lying there.

No one spoke for the longest time. The American's sobs were the only sound in the room. It was a moment of mourning. They still had their task at hand, of course, but this was one of _them_. This was _Lithuania_. He'd earned several lifetimes worth of respect from them all. Surviving under so many harsh conditions, and keeping a smile on his face. Just taken away by this thoughtless massacre that Yao had started.

Finally, Alfred's sobbing subsided, and he reached out to close Toris' eyes gently before covering him back up, and getting to his feet. "I'm gonna kill that fucker guys. I know you all hate him but _please_, let me end this."

"He's yours lad." Arthur replied almost instantly, still with a reassuring arm around Tino's shoulders. "After all that's happened, you deserve it."

If anyone objected, they didn't let it show. Berwald walked over to the doorway of the office to contact Matthew, and relay the news, and Freyr moved to the computers, translating as much as he could to see if there was any clue as to where Yao would be. Arthur and Tino joined him, and Alfred.

Alfred just stood there.

{}}{{}

Matthew slumped a little lower in the stool he was sitting on, still in disbelief at what Berwald had just told him. They'd lost yet another nation to China's bloodlust.

"Who?"

He jumped a bit at Kumajirou's voice, as the bear appeared from under the seat. "Oh, Kuma. I thought you were still asleep."

"You okay?"

"Yeah, I think we'll be fine." He picked up his long-time friend, who immediately flopped over onto the laptop keyboard like a cat, always needing to be in the centre of things. "Come on Kumakiro, I need to see the screen." He laughed.

And then the cold barrel of a gun pressed to the back of his head.

"We should have a little chat, I think." Yao murmured coldly.

{}}+{{}

Thanks for reading~!

We are nearing the big, awesome, epic battle! But first, we're going to pop in and visit the other group on their quest, okay?

Exams start tomorrow. And I need to be job hunting so… wish me luck… and reviews, I really want reviews.


	9. And as I am an Honest Puck

"It's like a dungeon down here." Mathias muttered, glancing either way down a long, damp corridor. Indeed, it looked like something out of a movie. "How many of those hold nations, do you think?" He queried, pointing to the multitude of cells.

"With the number of captives that we know of, all of them." Andreas answered, moving swiftly to the one closest, and shot off the lock without a second thought, and swung it open.

"Who's there?" A low voice called weakly from the shadows. A voice they all recognized.

"Ludwig?"

Sure enough, the German appeared, staring at all of them in shock. "What're you doing here?"

"What does it look like?" Mathias said with a grin. "Beating Alfred at what he does best!"

Belle watched the others' reunion, but was a little more eager to know who else was in the other cells. Nervously, she left the group, and wandered down the dark hallway. "A-Antonio?" She called. "Are you here?"

She didn't really expect him to answer. From a nearby cell, she heard a loud shuffle, and the Spaniard's warm voice. "Belle? Surely it can't be. Dios, I must be losing my mind in here."

Her breath caught in her throat, and she hurried to shoot the lock off. "Antonio, I swear you're not mad, it's me! Look at me!" She hissed, pulling the man close.

He blinked, and it was as if a glaze vanished from his eyes, and he beamed at the woman in his arms. "You're the mad one then!" He laughed. "Coming all the way through enemy territory just for me?"

"It's your own fault for running off to Italy, knowing they were part of this!"

"Please don't speak ill of Lovino right now?" He pleaded, suddenly sombre.

"What happened to him?"

Antonio's grip on her shoulders tightened as he spoke. "Feliciano allied all of Italy to China's cause. It was his boss' idea, as far as I know." He swallowed hard and continued, "Lovi couldn't stand the thought, and refused to help his brother in that endeavour. He went down cursing China, and for that, Yao cut out his tongue, and he-."

Belle's heart nearly stopped when Antonio stopped speaking. "Oh God. No more, please." She hadn't even realized that she was crying. "Please…"

After what felt like an eternity of the two simply holding each other in grievous silence, until Antonio finally whispered, "Francis."

"What? What about him?"

"He's in the next cell over." He got to his feet. "Yao's been torturing him, he needs help."

"Then let's go." Belle declared grimly. "Before we lose anyone else to that man's violence."

As they moved to leave, there came a yelp of surprise from the group just down the hall. Silently, the two peered around the doorframe to see the trio, now joined by Ludwig, facing a new figure, a dark-haired man whom Belle was sure she should recognize, but couldn't.

Clearly, Ivan did. His eyes were wide with shock. "Sebastian?"

The man smirked. "It's been awhile, Ivan."

"Antonio, who is that?" Belle whispered. "Is he a nation?"

"Yes. Yes Belle, that's Serbia."

{}}{{}

Matthew slammed his eyes shut, wishing a thousand times that he'd stayed behind. The front lines had never been his strong suit. Not since Vimy. He'd had experience being a prisoner, during the Second World War, when he'd been captured for a few months by Germany, but he'd been put under Gilbert's care, and Gilbert was very easy to get along with, even as a prisoner. He doubted Yao would be as friendly.

"Get into contact with your little allies, I know you can." Yao murmured smoothly. "I want them all to hear us."

The blond nodded minutely, and reached across to the laptop to where nine switches were perched on a foldout table. Each had been labelled with one of the remaining nations' names, and one was blank, Belle's, as her arrival had been so unexpected. With shaking fingers, he turned each one over, so that the others could hear him. "G-guys, it's me…China's here."

He was met with several shouts of surprise, mixed with anger, and Yao took over. "So glad you could all be here. I hope I haven't come so soon that you haven't found my special gift." He ignored Alfred's wordless snarl, and continued. "Anyway, you should all start coming back to your little base of operations, and we'll continue our conversation there. I look forward to seeing you all."

Yao pointed at the switches, indicating Matthew should turn them off, which he did. "Now put the bear down, and let's step outside."

The Canadian obeyed, trying to comfort Kumajirou wordlessly as his friend let out a whimper when locked in the van. "When will this end, Yao?"

The older nation hummed in thought, never taking the gun away. "Until I get what's owed to me."

"And what's that?" '_Just keep him talking Matt, you can do it. Give the others time to think of a plan.'_

"Respect. Centuries of being looked down on by countries I'm older than, _better _than, has begun to weigh pretty heavily. It's become annoying, listening to America's obnoxious babbling at every meeting, having Russia breathing down my neck almost all the time, hearing England and France argue like a pair of divorced parents. I needed a change, so to speak."

"So _this_ was your answer?" He winced at how accusing he sounded. As true as his words were, truth wasn't exactly what he should be spewing while at Yao's mercy.

"I was better than waiting around for- ah! Your friends have arrived!"

Sure enough, Alfred, Arthur, Tino, Berwald, and Freyr came charging into the clearing, guns held high. The other four appeared moments later, followed by Serbia, who was pulling along another nation, with a black hood pulled over their face.

He was covered in blood.

{}}{{}

Belle and Antonio watched the scene unfold, debating whether they should stay hidden, or risk being seen for Francis' sake. Serbia, or Sebastian, as Ivan had called him, seemed a little more focussed on the group right in front of him.

"Yes Ivan, too long, if I recall. Do you normally cease all contact with your allies as soon as they've run out of purpose and leave them to fight off a power thrice their size alone?"

"You know I was going through a civil war! There was no way I could keep up every deal and contact I'd made. Besides, it was years ago."

The smaller man rolled his eyes, and pulled out a gun. "Save your excuses for some other gullible fool."

"You wouldn't shoot me, would you? I'm sure Yao would be greatly annoyed. Knowing him, he'd want me to suffer, and you beating him to it would just piss him off."

"You think so?" Sebastian sneered, caulking the gun. "Don't flatter yourself. You were never even part of his plan, so when you turned up alive, _that's_ what pissed him off. He even killed Toris in a fit of rage."

Ivan's eyes shot wide open at that. "Toris is…?"

"That's right, so I wouldn't be too worried about _my _safety should I kill you…" He paused when he noticed the others suddenly straightening a little. So Yao had gotten to their navigator, he assumed. This assumption was proven when they all shouted in surprise simultaneously.

"We'll continue this later." Ivan murmured, brushing past Sebastian. "Right now Matvey needs us."

"One moment. I have my own orders as well. You can go right on ahead, but the imprisoned nations must stay, save for one, predetermined just for your dear 'Matvey'. We can't have you trying to overpower us, can we? Sadly, the lock's been shot. I can't lock it, so…" He raised the gun again, and pointed it at Ludwig, whose eyes widened in horror. "Too bad, really. Yao promised Italy he'd let you live."

Andreas felt the bullet graze past his ear as it made its way to Germany's heart.

{}}{{}

So there they stood, Antonio was hiding, lest he suffer the same fate as Ludwig, but the nine who stood before Yao and Matthew now had a dead look in their eyes.

"You all look so defeated, and we haven't even begun." Yao began condescendingly. "Even you America. Oh, that's right, you and Toris were lovers once, right? Well then it's no wonder…"

That brought him back like a whiplash. "Shut up! Don't you dare say his name you arrogant bastard! Just let Mattie go!"

"You can't be serious! You really think I'm stupid enough to hand over a hostage just like that? I'm not you, Jones. See? I think things through. I plan. I can't have you attacking me or my allies, so I take a hostage. You shoot me, Serbia shoots your brother. You shoot Serbia, your brother still dies."

Alfred bit his lip hard enough o draw blood. He couldn't think straight. It wasn't _fair_! He'd just lost Toris, he _couldn't _lose Mattie. Those days in the car, hanging out like brothers should, even under those circumstances, seemed so long ago.

"Put your guns down guys." He murmured. "They won't do us any good here."

"Good. Now we can talk like the civilized people that we are. But first, let me play one more card, just in case your brother here has any heroic ideas himself. There's no telling how related you two really are." Yao nodded to Sebastian, who pulled off the dark hood of the bound nation.

One look was enough to say it; Matthew wouldn't be trying anything anytime soon.

{}}+{{}

Thanks for reading~!

Let's play 'Guess who's under hood number one!' Just try and guess, I dare you!

I'm fond of the scenes themselves in this chapter, but not how they fit together.

Serbia's in there as a present to one of my friends, who was born in Serbia, and loves it to death, and his name is Sebastian. We made the Serbia OC together, and I just gave it his name for fun.

Reviews make my day, and if you really, reeeaaally love this, fan art would make my life if you think it's worth a scribble or two.


	10. If we Have Unearned Luck

Matthew's wide eyes were glued on Willhem, who was looking back with a faint expression of guilt, as if wordlessly apologizing for being used like this. Belle stifled a terrified gasp at the sight of her older brother, bound and helpless. Yao was just smiling through it all.

"So I'm sure you all know by now, neither you, nor Canada can try anything, lest someone die, and I'm sure we all agree that less bloodshed is for the better."

Arthur let out a dry laugh. "As if you could expect us to believe that. You're more blood-crazed than anyone I've ever seen."

"Perhaps, but you've all played a hand in that, haven't you?"

"Don't try to push this on us!"

Yao frowned slightly. "Now, now, I don't think this is how you want to begin negotiations, is it?"

The other nations all fell silent. They knew how these 'negotiations' would end. Either in their deaths or imprisonment.

They weren't even sure which was worse.

{}}{{}

"Come on Francis, hang in there for me. Just a little bit further." The only response Antonio got from the Frenchman was a weak murmur, which he supposed was better than nothing. He continued shuffling along as silently as he could away from the manor. The brush provided some cover, but not enough, seeing as he couldn't see any of China's men. He liked being able to see the enemy.

When a pair of gloved hands covered his mouth, he went rigid, and nearly dropped Francis in shock, until a familiar voice started laughing. "You're scared so much easier than before!"

He turned on Gilbert, eyes flashing. "This is hardly the time!" He snapped. "Please tell me you brought a first-aid kit or _something_ useful."

The Prussian was all seriousness again, (which is a disturbing image) and grabbed Francis' other arm. "C'mon. I've got everything we'll need in my little set-up."

"Have you seen much of what's going on? Belle said that China was holding Canada hostage, but that's all I know."

Gilbert grimaced at his words. "I saw alright. Heard his whole freakin' conversation too. But I came looking for everyone as soon as he called them, and ran into you. I must've gone the wrong way."

Antonio started sniggering. "You always did have a horrible sense of direction, mi amigo."

"Do not!" He insisted, looking like he was about to start pouting. "I have an awesome sense of direction! I just…don't use it all the time. It'd be cheating."

They arrived at the base of an old tree, and Gilbert pointed to a bag on the ground. "There should be some bandages in there." He moved to start climbing the tree.

"What're you doing?"

"What does it look like? No way am I gonna let Birdie stay in danger for a second longer! I'm sniping that bastard!"

"You can snipe?"

"Not really, but how hard can it be, right? You just aim with the scope, and fire, right?" Without giving Antonio the chance to reply, he continued scrambling up to a thick branch where the rifle was already positioned, and ready to fire.

It wasn't his best choice of positions. There was a particularly leafy branch obscuring his view of the other nations. He could just barely see America, whose eyes were locked on his brother, never wavering for a moment.

Though, it wasn't like he needed a great view of them. As long as he could see the bastard who dared to hold a gun to the sweetest nation out of all of them. Yao was standing on Matt's right side, effectively making himself a massive target for Gilbert, who smirked as he shifted the gun so that Yao's forehead was right in the middle. "I have a shot Toni!" He hissed back down to where the Spaniard was already cleaning and dressing Francis' wounds.

There was no hesitation in his voice as he replied, "Take it."

Mouth set into a grim line, he turned back to the gun, finger grazing the trigger. "No going back now."

He fired.

Only to realize the shot was too low. Not a headshot, as he'd hoped, but the bullet managed to lodge itself in Yao's throat, and send him to the ground.

For a moment, no one can really register what's happened. Yao struggled to breathe on the ground, but managed to spit out his final order to Sebastian. "Kill him."

The dark-haired nation nodded stiffly, and pushed Willhem a few steps ahead, handgun at the ready to kill the tall nation.

Ivan moved to stop the man, but he knew he wouldn't be faster than a bullet. Netherlands was going to die. His eyes slammed shut as he tackled Serbia to the earth. But the shot had already been fired.

"NO!"

{}}{{}

The scream hadn't come from either Matthew or Belle, as he'd expected. It had come from Alfred, who was now kneeling on the ground next to someone.

Ivan swore his heart stopped when he realized that it was Matthew. _How? _How could he have moved that fast when the others couldn't? There was no way he could've shielded Willhem like that.

He kept on telling himself that. Anything that would keep him from believing that this was really happening.

"Please Matt! I can't keep owing you like this!" Willhem was murmuring. "You can't just give up like this!"

"Mattie! C'mon! Stay with me!" Alfred hissed, pressing a hand to the wound in is chest, trying to stop the bleeding. "Someone get a damn medic! Something!" He locked eyes with Ivan, and in that instant, he looked like a child again, pleading desperately with a parent. "Ivan, your scarf! Please, it has to do something!"

He knew it wouldn't, but who was he to argue when his Matvey's life was being pumped out of him by his own heart?

The two worked tirelessly, wrapping the cloth tight around the wound. A few times, the Canadian's eyes would flicker open, and he'd smile, and whisper something about everything being alright. Ivan would silence him with a desperate kiss, and they'd keep working.

Finally, his face ashen, and eyes growing dim, Matthew looked up once more, and murmured, "Take care of Kumajirou for me."

And his last breath left him with a sigh.

"No! Matt! C'mon! Wake up! See? Everything's okay! Yao's gone! We can just…" Alfred's voice wavered. "…We can go home…"

Ivan said nothing; he just leaned forward, and rested his head on Canada's shoulder, hiding his sorrow from the rest of the world.

{}}{{}

"Fuck!" Antonio jumped at Gilbert's sudden exclamation, not surprised so much at the noise, but at the emotion that was thick in his normally one-tone voice. "Fuck no! You fuckin' idiot!"

"G-Gil? What's wrong?" He called, climbing up to where the Prussian was sitting, slumped over with his head in his hands.

"What the fuck was I thinking Toni? I can't shoot worth shit! I just…fuck!"

Wait… was Gilbert crying? "What the hell happened? Did you miss?"

"Worse! I shot the fucker, but he had another ally there!" He turned, and flung his arms around Antonio, who was just looking at his friend in horror. "The sonuvabitch shot Mattie! I fuckin' killed him Toni! I got him killed!"

He couldn't think of a single thing to say to him now. He just sat there, holding his long-time friend, and let him cry.

It was the first time he'd ever seen Gilbert cry.

{}}+{{}

Thanks for… I'm so sorry! –Sobs-

I could honestly barely force myself to write this. I kept on having to force my fingers down to the keys, but I've had this planned for months, and there was no avoiding it.

On any other day, I'd laugh at you guys for totally not seeing Netherlands coming. Prussia or France would've been too obvious (Thank you Free Wolf for pointing it out that I'd never do something that easy. Finally! Someone gets me) and I hate Cuba with a burning passion. (Sorry to all those who like him) But right now… I'm just gonna go cry somewhere.

Please review, but don't be mad, okay?


	11. Now to Scape the Serpent's Tongue

"We won bro. But I guess you knew that already." Alfred stood before the little stone they'd used to temporarily mark his brother's grave. Kumajirou had personally picked the spot, in the woods to the southwest of the Hudson Bay. 'Where I first found him.' He'd explained quietly.

So now, the American stood before the plain grave that was all that was left of Matthew Williams. "I'm gonna get you a better headstone made. I was thinking of making it a kickass maple leaf, sound…sound good?" At the end, his voice started to waver and break, and tears swam in his vision. "Damn it! It wasn't supposed to end like this!" His legs gave out under him, and the tears now flowed freely. "We were supposed to kill that bastard and be the big damn heroes! You were supposed to be safe! You were supposed to be the awesome techie and the getaway driver! We were gonna go home, and I'd fight with Ivan all the time because I didn't like you loving a commie, and you'd yell at me that Russia's been a democracy for decades!"

He was so wrapped up in what was supposed to be, that he missed the faint footsteps approaching where he knelt. "And I'd make fun of you until you snap and beat me with a hockey stick, and I'd have to explain the bruises to my boss, and he won't believe me. But then you'd apologize with pancakes, and your bear would eat more than I could and… Damnit Mattie! You're supposed to _be here_!"

Arthur's hand fell on his former colony's shoulder, his own face an unreadable mask. For a while, the two remained in silence like that, broken only by the sounds of the forest around them.

Once the flow of tears slowed, Alfred got back to his feet, albeit a bit shakily, and turned to face Arthur. No surprise showed in his face at who stood behind him, as if he'd been expecting the Brit to show up to comfort him all along. "Why Mattie, Arthur? Why couldn't it have been-?"

"Don't finish that sentence, don't you dare." He pulled Alfred into a fierce hug. "Nothing would have been different if it were you, Alfred! If it had been, I'd be saying the exact same thing to him. All this self-sacrificing will get you nowhere!"

Fresh tears started as Alfred hugged the man back. "I know. I just…I don't know what else to do Artie. He's my little brother."

"Just keep going forward. That's all we can do. Just keep going until the way is clear again."

{}}{{}

The first world conference after the fact, was the most quiet, sombre one in recorded history. Nearly every nation present wore black, and no one spoke, unless giving a speech. The empty seats that would normally belong to those who had been lost sat like gaping holes amongst the living.

As much as Alfred wanted to think that he'd lost the most, it didn't take a genius to see that Feliciano was suffering more than anyone. Not only had he lost both Lovino and Ludwig, but he was struggling with shouldering the blame for all that had happened. Sebastian had disappeared the night everything fell apart, and Yao was dead. That left him and Japan as the sole nations at fault. There was almost nothing left of the chipper Italian. Like he'd been shattered.

Gilbert was in a similar state, having stepped up to take his brother's place, as well as suppressing his guilt. Alfred wasn't sure he could ever forgive the man, despite the fact that after his first fit of rage at the man, he'd been fairly civil. Antonio was being as supportive of his old friend as he could, but Francis refused to speak to him.

Oddly enough, Canada had been one of the lucky nations. He'd left behind his provinces, who were willing to collaborate to keep the nation standing. It was one of the few. Most others, like Lithuania, had been swallowed up by surrounding nations, without any reasonable explanation to give to the people. Entire cultures would soon disappear, unless another nation-person was born, which was exceedingly rare.

And so, they remained at their conference table, no one quite willing to remove the empty seats, even though everyone knew it would have to be done.

But before he could take away the chair that his brother had occupied for centuries, at his right-hand side, Alfred still had a few more places to visit.

{}}{{}

He stood on the front porch of the small house, not quite willing to ring the doorbell, but not quite ready to throw in the towel and leave. He knew that of all the places, this was the best place to start.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, he noted that he'd never really been to Ivan's home before. He'd gone with his boss to the Yalta conference, but other than that, he'd never even been in Russia.

"Well? Are you going to knock, or not?"

He jumped at the cool voice from behind him, and turned to see Natalya standing in the driveway, arms crossed. "I-I uh…"

"If you're not sure, then don't bother. My brother refuses to see anyone. Not even Katyusha or myself. Your face would just make things harder for him, so just leave." She snapped, brushing past him to open the door.

"I won't."

Natalya paused, halfway through the door. "You won't what?"

"I won't leave everything unfinished like this. Let me in."

He could've sworn he heard the Belarusian chuckle, but would later pass it off as his mourning brain playing tricks on him. "Very well."

Without another word passing between the two of them, she led Alfred through the echoing halls of the Russian's mansion, until they stopped at a dark wooden door. "His study." She explained sharply. "He hasn't left in days." A different light flashed through her eyes. Pleading? "Good luck."

Clearing his throat, Alfred stared down the door for a moment, before knocking softly. "I-Ivan?"

"Уходить." Came the cold reply.

"Damnit Ivan, don't make me break down this door, you know I can!"

There was a moment's silence, before the lock clicked, and Ivan opened the door, looking down at the American. His violet eyes were ringed with dark shadows, faintly concealing a shade of red underneath. "What do you want?"

"To talk."

He sighed, and held the door open for Alfred to enter. "There's nothing to talk about."

"Are you nuts?" He struggled to find one of the smiles that used to be so easy to come by, and pulled out something closer to a grimace. "Doesn't family have to stick together at times like this?"

"Family?" He couldn't hide the surprise, even in his hollowed-out state.

"Well, yeah. I might not have always liked it, but Mattie loved you. No matter what now, you've got me, Artie, and Frenchy. Hell, you might even have Tino if things go okay."

"Anyway, I didn't come here to comfort you. I had a feeling you'd be coping like _that_." He indicated a large pile of empty bottles next to the desk. "So I came to tell you to quit it. Matthew wouldn't want that."

"And what, pray tell, would Matvey do? You may have been brothers, but I don't think… what's so funny?" Violet eyes narrowed as the American started snickering.

"Obviously you didn't know him all that well. Mattie's answer for every problem was to get so high, not only did you forget there was a problem, but everything became good news."

Ivan started chuckling, despite himself. "Da, that does sound like him."

"I'd be willing to bet, that wherever he is right now, he's so ridiculously baked, he's seeing fairies like Artie."

"Don't make me jealous."

"Hey, y'know I was going to visit Will after this." The laughter faded, and the sombre cloud seemed to return. "I bet he has enough weed for the three of us."

"Нет. You go ahead. I'll make my visit another time."

"Sure." And he left, hoping that he'd at least done _something_ to make it a little easier for them both.

Sadly, he wasn't kidding when he'd said he intended to get high when he visited Willhem.

{}}{{}

When he'd arrived in the Netherlands, Will had been out in the garden, making the approach a bit easier. The only problem was that the garden was filled with tulips. Since his last visit to Ottawa, where the festival had been innocently in swing, the citizens completely unaware of how grievous this time still was, the sight made Alfred gag.

"I figured you'd show up eventually."

"Well, I'm making my rounds, trying to tie up all my loose ends."

"Is it making things easier?"

"A bit."

"Do you plan on visiting G-"

"No." He interrupted, eyes suddenly hardening.

"You can't keep carrying that around, you know. He blames himself."

"With good reason. It's his damn fault."

He barely flinched when Willhem punched him in the jaw. "Grow up, will you? If it weren't for Gilbert, we'd all be dead now, and that bastard would be ruling the world!"

"We would've thought of something." He mumbled.

"Bullshit. We were screwed the minute you set foot in his compound, and you know it." Will suddenly clapped a hand on Alfred's shoulder, narrow face very grave. "Now, you need a joint, and a good talking to."

As he was led away, Alfred couldn't help but feel like his mind had just been read.

{}}+{{}

Thanks for reading~!

God, I did not plan on this story being so angsty. Now, let me say that again, because I'm 90% sure you don't believe me. I did NOT plan on this being so angsty! If this angst were fluff, I would choke on it.

Okay, I'm thinking one more chapter to wrap everything up, (this one was just for Al) and then I say a fond farewell to this story. Which is too bad, seeing a then I won't make it to my goal of 16 chapters so I could have awesome chapter titles which explain the story's title. Oh well.

In case you were wondering, 'If we Shadows Have Offended' is my favourite Shakespearian monologue, said by Puck at the end of 'A Midsummer Night's Dream', and it acts as a disclaimer, saying that if you didn't like anything you saw here, pretend it was just a dream, and don't get mad at the author. I picked it because I was so worried that this story wouldn't go over well, and I wanted some sort of a scapegoat. I'll have the monologue at the end of the next chapter, just for fun.


	12. We Will Make Ammends Ere Long

"You know, it isn't right for you to be hiding like this. It's very hard for just Italy and myself to handle the blame."

"I know."

Kiku glanced sideways at the man sitting beside him. Sebastian was still hiding in China for the time being. At least until those who'd defeated him decided what should be done with the land. It would likely be broken up among the Nordics, England, America, and Canada. When the borders were decided, he would have to flee again.

"I'm sorry that you two have to deal with this alone. I'd offer my support if I could. But until America calms down, I must assume that he'll kill me as soon as look at me. Ivan as well."

"Well you can't really blame them."

"No, I suppose I can't." He stared down at the plate on his lap, appetite suddenly diminished. "This whole war just messed everything up. All of my plans, all of our lives…"

The smaller nation nodded in understanding. There really wasn't anything he could say to that.

Both men looked up at a sudden crash in the bamboo forest behind them. "Is someone there?" Kiku called out hesitantly. Sebastian was already visibly tensing, ready to flee should it be an enemy.

Their only reply was another crash, sounding faintly like footsteps, this one minutely quieter, as if whomever it was that had been spying on them was walking away.

Kiku looked over to Sebastian, who nodded at the silent order to stay put, and picked up his katana from where it rested on the ground. With battle reflexes he hadn't exercised in years, he dashed into the bamboo, and knocked the figure down in one fluid strike.

He was expecting either an enemy nation, or an innocent human, who'd simply stumbled upon the two by mistake. But the girl whose neck he had his blade pressed against, appeared to be neither.

She didn't have the air of a human, but she certainly wasn't any nation that he recognized. She had dark hair, a slim face and form, and a pair of dark eyes that stared up at him in terror.

Amber eyes.

Kiku felt his heart freeze for an instant as he stared at the frightened girl. He brought up a hand, and covered his mouth, suddenly feeling sick to his stomach. "Please no… K-Kami-sama."

{}}{{}

Arthur sat at his desk, staring blankly at the forms before him. All of these political steps to end the relatively short war seemed tedious, and pointless. No one could fight anymore, so why go through all the pain of making declarations of the fact?

"Arthur, just staring at that page isn't going to get it done."

He started, not having heard Tino's approach. "I know, love. It just seems so trivial now. Too soon, really."

"You've been in plenty of wars." The Finn pointed out. "And gotten through each and every one without so much as batting an eye at all of the suffering they cause."

"We've never lost so much in other wars. I mean, sure, we've passed around colonies like hot coals before, stripped lands from others, done horrible things to their people and the like. But… I can honestly say that I've never had the blood of another nation on my hands."

Tino walked around the chair so that he could face Arthur. Crouching to his seated level, he took the Brit's face in his hands, and lifted it so that warm violet eyes met bright emerald. "Nor I. But humans lose family members all the time, I think… somehow, it seems fair that we should have to know their suffering as well, if we want to truly learn from our extended time here, and to enjoy it."

Arthur felt a smile creeping its way up his face, warming his cheeks. "You're right there love. Somehow you always are." He pressed a chaste kiss to Tino's lips, before standing up. "Now come on. I think we should have another talk with Peter. He still won't forgive me for making him stay here, and miss all the action."

"He'll forgive you. He always does." Tino promised, entwining his fingers with Arthur's as he stood as well. "Just buy him a new toy, and he'll get over it."

Just as the two were ready to leave, the phone perched on one end of the desk began to ring shrilly. "That's odd." Arthur murmured, moving to answer it. "I wasn't expecting any calls tonight. Hullo?"

Tino strained his ears to hear the other end of the conversation, but it was too quiet. All he could do was watch emotions dance across Arthur's face. "What do you want Japan?" Why would Kiku be calling Arthur at this hour? Especially given how strained relations were now of all times.

"You what? That's not possible… yes… yes, right away… I don't know how he'll take it, but I'll try to make him understand… yes of course, she'll be completely different… no, I'll hold no prejudice… at this hour? Alright, I'll see what I can do… thank you."

He hung up, face set into a grim line as he turned to face Tino again. "Can you call all of the Nordics, and Eastern Europe?"

"S-sure, but why?"

"There's an emergency meeting in Tokyo, as quickly as possible. It's urgent." He was already pulling out his cell to begin making calls. "Get Peter in here too. Recognized or not, we need every single nation present. Try to make calls and pack at the same time, if possible… hello, Gilbert? It's Arthur…"

Still confused, and a bit dazed, the Finn reached for his own cell, and dialled Berwald's home number. Whatever had happened, it was enough to make Arthur look afraid again.

{}}{{}

By noon the next morning, everyone was assembled in the Tokyo conference centre, many looking exhausted from jet lag, but all alert and curious.

"I suppose you're all wondering why you're here." Arthur started, seeing as Japan hadn't yet arrived, oddly enough. "I know this seems very sudden, but grave news waits for no one. It has come to our attention that…"

He was interrupted as the door swung open, and Kiku arrived, followed by Sebastian, and a third figure.

At the sight of the Serbian, Alfred stood up, eyes blazing. "You bastard! Finally decided to show your cowardly face?"

Willhem caught the blond's wrist, effectively keeping him from flying at the man. "This isn't yet the time, Alfred."

"Fuck that, he killed my brother!" Enraged didn't even begin to cover the emotion conveyed through his eyes as he watched the man enter, unable to meet the eyes of any one of the assembled nations.

"Alfred!" He stopped struggling as Arthur snapped his name. "I'm sorry, but this man's punishment can wait. There are more pressing matters at hand. Kiku, will you please introduce this young lady?"

Kiku nodded in thanks, and stepped aside so that everyone could get a clear view of the girl who stood close behind him. "This is Lien-hua. The new representative for China."

The entire room fell silent. No one moved, or said a word for what felt like an eternity. Normally, a new nation was a cause for celebration. They would welcome the child into their midst with smiles and cheers.

But now, no one could even will themselves to congratulate the girl, who stared at all of them in fear.

It made the echoes of Alfred's laughter all the more bone chilling. "You have _got _to be kidding me! There's no way! Just no freaking way that's possible!"

Suddenly, the false cheerfulness disappeared, and he sneered over at the trio. "You mean to tell me that _China_ of all people got a second chance? Out of _everyone _we lost out there, that son of a bitch gets a new start?" He leapt to his feet. "What about Toris, huh? What happens to the country that he worked so hard to make strong? What about Heracles, or Sadiq? What happens to their lands? That's right, they dissolve! They disappear into the pages of history books! Any one of them could've gotten this honour, and it's that bastard that gets it? No way in hell!"

There was another long silence that followed his outburst. Several nations looked like they agreed with him, like it wasn't fair that this had happened. Some still remained looking stunned.

But it was Latvia, of all nations, who stood to speak, visibly trembling like a leaf. "What's the difference, Alfred? It's a second chance for the people, not for Yao. He's gone, and can't feel any pride in the fact that his country will live on. If Lithuania had been the one to get a new representative, I would have been happy for him, but it would never have been Toris, just as this girl isn't Yao. It isn't fair to judge her, when she is the chance for China's redemption."

Still shaking, he walked in long strides to where Lien-hua stood, and knelt down to her level, taking one of her small hands in his. "Welcome to our world, miss. We're glad to have you."

With the hand that wasn't in Ravis' grasp, Lien-hua reached up, and wiped the tears away from his eyes, that Ravis hadn't even realized he was shedding until then. He supposed crying had just become second nature that he didn't notice anymore.

She looked like she was trying to say something as well, but no words came from her mouth, only a jumble of unintelligible sounds. "What's wrong?" He murmured.

"She has no tongue." Kiku explained calmly. At his words, both Antonio and Belle looked up with a start.

"She has no…"

"No. As if it were never there."

Ravis' words came floating back to them. _'She is a chance for China's redemption.'_ Maybe that was true.

A third heavy silence fell over them, this one, a bit shorter, as Ivan spoke. "Ravis. That is the most I have ever heard you say at once."

Still kneeling beside the new China, the Latvian let out a shaky, but cheerful laugh. "I guess you're right."

{}}+{{}

Thanks for reading~!

I lied! There's no way I can say goodbye to this story just yet! I still need to wrap up some stuff with some of the others, and this mini plot kind of hit me as soon as I'd published chapter 11, so I'm going to continue to forge on! I really want 16 chapters!

Here's the deal, if I keep fighting for 16 chapters, you guys will all review so we can get to 100 reviews? 100th reviewer will get a Hetalia one-shot of their choosing. The plot can be as vague or specific as you want, and the only thing I refuse to write is CubaXCanada or AmeRus. Absolutely anything else is fair game.

Anywho, as promised, here's the awesome monologue that will be chapter titles if I can get to 16:

If we shadows have offended,  
>Think but this, and all is mended.<br>That you have but slumbered here,  
>While these visions did appear.<br>And this weak, and idle theme,  
>No more yielding but a dream.<br>Gentles-do not reprehend  
>if you pardon, we will mend.<br>And, as I am an honest Puck  
>if we have unearned luck.<br>Now to scape the serpents tongue.  
>We will make amends ere long<br>else the Puck a liar call.  
>So-goodnight unto you all.<br>Give me your hands if we be friends.  
>And Robin shall restore amends.<p> 


	13. Else the Puck a Liar Call

Ravis' display had come as another shock to everyone, but afterwards, most were able to accept that, if raised correctly, Lien-hua wouldn't grow up to be as bloodthirsty as her predecessor.

Even Alfred calmed down long enough to see sense, and realize that turning his hurt on the girl would do nothing. "So what about him?" He asked, pointing to Sebastian accusingly. Several nations who were leaving, having seen what they came to see, paused to watch as those who had personally infiltrated Yao's home made their post-war decisions.

Kiku leapt to answer before anyone else could. "He's agreed to share in the blame, and to…"

"Not good enough." Everyone was surprised to see it was Francis' outburst, rather than Alfred's. He hadn't even moved from his chair as he watched the group with dark eyes. "What good will blame do except to humiliate him, and lift a bit of weight off of poor Italy's shoulders? It won't bring anyone back."

"Nothing will Francis." Andreas pointed out coolly. "We've never seen a need for justice for such crimes before, this time should be no different. We have all killed before, have we not?"

"Are you saying we just let his crimes go ignored?"

"Not at all. I'm just saying that your ideas of punishment will only be too severe."

"Remember the last time we let you decide what happened to the losing side of a war?" Arthur added. "It turned out _just fantastic_, now didn't it?"

The look Francis shot at the Brit was nothing short of venomous, though most who saw it appeared virtually unfazed.

"I think it would be best if we discussed this at another time." Kiku interrupted. He was holding Lien-hua's head to his side, covering her exposed ear with his hand. "It's improper to speak of matters like this in front of a child."

The new China seemed to have a different idea in mind. With an impatient whine, she struggled from Kiku's grasp, and walked boldly over to Alfred, tugging on the hem of his jacket. Curious, and still a little hesitant to trust the kid, he squatted down so that they were at eye level. "Yeah?"

Eyes crying out every apology that her voice could not, Lien-hua wrapped her small arms around Alfred's neck, and buried her face into his shoulder. The small gesture was enough to remind them that even though she hadn't existed until a few days prior, she had still gained all 4000 years worth of memories, and knew everything that had happened. "H-hey… it's okay, please don't cry, I'm not good with kids." As if on cue, she started sniffling too. "Oh! Oh no, please stop. Artie!"

"Oh belt up." The Brit sighed. "Come on, hand her over." Alfred quickly complied, and Arthur now held the girl, just as he'd held Alfred so many times before. "There's a good girl, nobody really blames you for this mess, we're all just a bit on edge."

Alfred got to his feet, suddenly wearing a smile that he didn't think he'd ever be able to let himself have again. "You should put her down before she gets your sense of taste."

"Shut up." He groaned. "And stop smiling like you've just figured out the answer to the universe."

"Well, I'm still working on that one, but at the very least, I know what to do with Sebastian now."

There wasn't an eyebrow in the room that didn't rise in curiosity. (Except for Alfred's and Lien-hua's of course) "Oh really now?" Francis asked skeptically. "And what exactly is that?"

"He'll have to teach her sign language. Under supervision of course. As well as helping Feli and Kiku pay the reparations, and generally clean up everything."

"I think that sounds fair." Tino murmured. Most of the Nordics nodded their agreement as well.

All eyes turned to Francis, as if expecting him to object, but the Frenchman didn't say a word against it. On the contrary, his, "oui, that sounds like a plan' was actually rather enthusiastic. His sudden attitude change was found disturbing by most.

{}}{{}

To say that Gilbert was a bit flustered the first day his boss –as bizarre as it was to say that he had one again- had given him paperwork would be a massive understatement. First of all, he was _Prussia_. No matter haw many times the officials called him Germany, he wasn't Germany. They'd seemed all too happy to put him in his little brother's place, as if thrilled that his dying had made him seem a little more human.

Second, you let yourself get lazy for a few decades, and suddenly a few meetings and forms to look over felt like the most work he'd done in centuries. Even as a country, he'd been famous for being lazy in political matters. He didn't really care unless he got to fight.

Now, he was working on organizing all of the cleanup in Germany, without West to point out everything he was doing wrong, and smack him upside the head whenever he 'took a break' and tried to sneak out for a drink as he'd done so many times whenever they'd worked together on something.

It didn't help that the only office they could get him on short notice was Ludwig's. Everything was just as immaculate as always, and for once, he was hesitant to make a mess. Gilbert forced himself to be organized, if only for the sake of his brother's memory.

He was shaken from his thoughts at the sound of a knock on the door in front of him. "Come in!"

"Gil?" He looked up at the soft voice as Feliciano walked into the room.

"Hey Feli."

The Italian stood in front of the desk, tracing patterns on the wood. "I'm sorry."

"What for?"

"I thought… maybe if I came here it'd all have been a dream, and Ludwig would be sitting here and…" He voice wavered, and faded, so Gilbert leapt to his rescue before he kept on trying to talk, which would just end with him crying for hours.

"Me too. Every time I walk into the damn building, I keep thinking it's to bug West, and then all those damn secretaries greet me with 'Good morning Mr. Beilschmidt!' Like nothing's wrong."

"It's the same at my office." Feliciano started, voice a little stronger now that he'd had the few seconds to collect himself. "Not one of them has offered condolences, even though I always do when they've lost someone."

"They just don't get it…" He started, and then changed his mind. Being in the office again must've brought out the parent in him again. He couldn't remember the last time he'd had this good of an idea. "Come here."

Confused, Feliciano obliged, walking around the desk, and sitting in the smaller chair beside Gilbert.

"I'm going to tell you a story that I used to tell Ludwig all the time whenever he was feeling down."

Brown-gold eyes bright with curiosity, he inched closer. "You mean, when he was little?"

"That's right." He settled back in the big chair, closing his eyes as memories of the words, and each time he'd said them came flooding back, but he pushed them aside, just for now. "Okay, I have to think for a second to put it into English, I always told it in German…There once was a boy named Ludwig…"

"Was that really the boy's name?"

Gilbert flashed him a quick grin. "Nope. The original was about a girl named Louisa, but I never told him that."

Feliciano giggled softly, and then rested his head on the German's shoulder. "Go on."

"Alright, there once was a boy named Ludwig, and he'd always wanted a dog. His Vati had always said maybe, but maybe didn't get Ludwig a dog. So one day, when he found a little puppy all by itself in the rain, he took it home. But his Vati, being a wealthy man, said that a mongrel like that would ruin their image, and he'd have to get rid of it."

Feliciano felt his eyes widen at the familiar words. Ludwig had told him this story before! Though he'd changed the boy's name again. It had been something else German, Frederick, he thought.

"Now Frederick was a very determined boy, and he wasn't about to just accept it and move on, so he decided to run away from home, taking the puppy with him.""Ve! But Ludwig, why would he run away just for a dog?"

The German smiled, and ruffled Feliciano's hair fondly. "It was a very sweet puppy, and Frederick loved it very much. He would've gone anywhere for it, even though he'd just found it. Besides, it was the only dog he'd ever had. Can I continue?"

"_Yes, I'm sorry."_

"_So Frederick named the puppy Blackie…"_

"_Like yours!"_

"_Ja. This Blackie was a German Shepherd too. Anyway, he took Blackie with him everywhere he went as he searched for a new home, and Blackie protected him from all of the big animals out there, like wolves and bears. See, Blackie grew very fast, and was very strong._

"_One day, while they were walking by a village, a shepherd came up to Frederick, and offered to buy Blackie from him. He explained that his dog had died, and he needed a new one to protect the sheep."_

"_He's not going to give him away right?"_

"_Just listen. Now shepherds are usually poor, so the man couldn't offer him very much, and Frederick really didn't want to sell his only friend, so he made a deal. He would allow him to use Blackie to protect the sheep, but he'd have to take Frederick on as an apprentice as well…"_

"And so the shepherd said…" Gilbert glanced over to where Feliciano was now breathing heavily in his sleep. "Yeah, West always fell asleep at that part too."

Carefully, so as not to wake him, he picked up the slumbering Italian, and moved him over to the dark leather couch on the far wall of the office, where he'd be more comfortable than the stiff-backed wooden chair.

The action sort of reminded him of when he and Francis had had to put Matthew to bed after he'd drunk a bit too much.

_Francis_.

He wondered when he'd ever talk to him again. Not that he blamed him for it, or Alfred for that matter. He knew that he'd be pissed too if it had been him.

Gilbert walked back over to the desk, and flopped over in his chair. "Fuck the paperwork, I need a drink." He muttered, grabbing his wallet and cell. As an afterthought, he scribbled down a quick note to Feliciano, and left it on the table beside him. "Sleep tight." He whispered, brushing his lips against the nation's forehead. "I hope your dreams are a lot better than this cluster fuck we've gotten ourselves in."

{}}+{{}

Thanks for reading~!

I felt so bad about the last chapter. I stayed up all night worrying that I'd lost the balance of seriousness and silliness that I felt that I'd had for the rest of it. But there wasn't one giggle to be had in the last chapter, which does not please me. I kind of want a happier ending. What do you guys think? I was also weighing my pros and cons of an 'it was all a dream' ending, but I figured you guys killing me wouldn't be worth it. I'll come up with something in the end.

What I didn't feel bad about, was that I didn't do much writing on my trip. Because I came home to a very empty inbox. tisk tisk. No multi-chapter uploads for you!

The story Gilbert tells Feli doesn't exist, I made it up. Although, just watch, it'll turn out to be real and I'll be sued… just my luck.

If you're wondering what Lien-hua looks like… think a chibi fem!China.

I love reviews… if you didn't know that by now… well clearly you haven't been reading my author's notes. I really want to get to 100 reviews too. : D


	14. So, Goodnight Unto You All

"Here's to you Bruder." Gilbert muttered, taking a swig from the glass clutched in his hands. He was sitting in their favourite bar, in the back, surrounded by empty beer mugs. The sad part being that he'd barely started. The waitress who was bringing his drinks would ask every time, 'Are you okay sir?', but he would always wave her away, and drink away everything.

The only voice that caught his ear was the one that he couldn't believe he was hearing at the front door. "I really doubt he'd be here Toni. Let's just go back."

"Francis, there's no where else he'd go." Out of the corner of his eye, Gilbert could see Antonio pulling on Francis' arm as the Frenchman tried to leave the bar. He would forever blame it on all the alcohol in his system, but Gilbert waved, catching the others' attention.

"Gil! I knew you'd be here!" Antonio cheered, running towards him.

"There's no place like home, right?" He said with a grin, and raised his mug to them both before tipping it back, and emptying it.

"Right! Now, Francis had something he wanted to say to you."

When the blond didn't even open his mouth, Antonio stomped on his foot, and glared at him.

"I'm sorry for blaming you for… for Mathieu. You were trying to help, and I realize now that I would've done the exact same thing."

"R-really Fran? You're serious?"

"Yes. But only under the condition that you pay for all of the drinks we have today."

A grin made its way up Gilbert's face, and he nodded. "There's my Franny! Oi! Let's get some rounds over here for my buds!"

{}}{{}

About four hours later, Francis was half naked, Antonio was singing loudly in Spanish, and Gilbert was talking to rocks as if they were Gilbird, who was still at home. This was still after they'd been kicked out of the bar over an hour ago.

Suddenly, Gilbert's babbling stopped, and he sat up on the bench they were all sprawled across, and stared up at the dark sky, which was thick with clouds that threatened to rain on them. "Remember the time when we went drinking in Canada and we got arrested, and Mattie refused to bail us out for three days?"

Beside him, Francis nodded slowly. "Mon petit Mathieu had such a cruel sense of humour… I, of course, blame that bushy-browed fiend, for raising him in such a crass manner."

"At least he bailed us out eventually." Antonio pointed out. "Lovi flat out refused, and we had to wait for Ludwig."

"That's my Luddy! He would've come for us halfway across the world." Gilbert cackled, and then suddenly stopped smiling, and let himself slide over to lean against Francis. "Aren't we older ones supposed to die first? Teach our little brothers everything they need to know about being real men, and then setting them free?"

None of them really knew what to say to that, so they all continued to stare up at the black sky, until light footfalls caught their attention.

"Gilbert!"

The trio looked up to see Feliciano running towards them in a panic. He was carrying what looked like a jacket in both arms, and breathing heavily, like he'd sprinted the entire way there. Or at least jogged, which was more likely, given his weak constitution. That he was still standing after that alone was a small miracle.

"Gilbert I woke up and you were gone and I didn't know where you were and you left your coat and it's gonna be cold tonight and I was so worried you left me forever!"

"Gil! You left him all alone?" Antonio accused, looking horrified.

"I left a note!" He defended; raising his hands in surrender against the murderous stares his friends were giving him. "On the coffee table, I swear!"

"Ve… but it just said 'going out drinking.' I didn't know where you went at all."

Gilbert gave him the best 'are you serious?' look he could muster without hurting the Italian's feelings. "Obviously. I went _drinking_. That's where I was, no more info needed."

He was just about to get going, when Feliciano threw his arms around the German's waist, burying his face in the fabric of his shirt. "I thought I'd lost you too!"

Gilbert didn't know what to say to that. The boy had already lost so much; of course he'd be worried about losing more. So what else could he do but wrap his arms around his shoulders, and hold him close until he stopped shaking. "I'm not going anywhere." He murmured.

"Promise?"

"Promise."

"Pinkie swear." Feliciano demanded, holding out his hand.

The albino complied, ignoring Francis' cooing about how adorable they looked, and smiled warmly at the Italian. "Do you wanna spend the night here? It must get kind of lonely in that big house, and I'd hate to see you panic like this again."

"Ve~! I'd love to! But could you put on the coat? It's getting really cold out, and just looking at you makes me feel cold."

"Ja, ja." He slid the coat over his shoulders, and even bent down so that Feliciano could wrap the scarf he'd also brought around his pale neck. "It's good to talk to you again Franny!" He called to the other two as he left after Feliciano. "See you two around then!"

"We'll all go drinking again soon!" Antonio declared, turning back to Francis, who was now passed out on the bench they'd just been recently occupying. He sighed at the thought of having to take on the task of dragging him back home, and for a moment; it was like old times, where a half-naked, passed-out Francis was the worst of his troubles.

"Sure!" Gilbert shouted back with a wave, not turning around to face them. "So did you have a good nap Feli?"

"Yeah! And I had a really nice dream too!" He chirped, wrapping both of his arms around one of Gilbert's. "You, me, Fratello, and Ludwig were all together in this big open field, and we were having a picnic with lots of pasta, and sausages that didn't taste like death!"

Gilbert could hear the change in tone as the smile faded from the Italian's face as he continued. "And everyone looked so happy. Even Fratello was laughing… I'm sorry for siding with Yao, Gil. I really am."

"Hey. It's not your fault. Don't blame yourself."

"No! It's my fault that Fratello is dead! If I hadn't gotten scared and clung to the stronger power, then Lovino and I could've stood together, and protected each other like we used to!"

They'd stopped walking, and Feliciano was crying again, wiping his eyes as quickly as the tears came as if trying to force them away. "Feli. If you keep staying in the past, you'll miss out on a whole lot of good things to come."

"I don't know what else to do…"

"Think about it this way. You know when I stopped being a country?"

"Y-yeah…"

"Well. I could've been really mad at West. I mean, I was stuck at Russia's place for years, and I couldn't even call myself Prussia, but you know? I was actually really proud of him. That was the first time he'd made a big decision for his country without coming to me for advice. So no matter how many times he tried to apologize afterwards, I just kept on telling him how frickin' proud of him I was. So I'd bet that Lovino is really happy that you were able to make a decision for the good of your country."

"Y-you really think so?"

"I know it. Now. Let's get you to bed. All that running around must've really worn you out."

Instead of answering, Feliciano just yawned, and started leaning against Gilbert as they continued walking.

And as much as Gilbert would've blamed the alcohol in his system later for the feeling, he'd be lying if he said he didn't feel a bit warmer at the contact.

Or maybe that was just the friction of the scarf against his neck… it was really scratchy.

The streets, which had been speckled with people a few hours ago, were now practically empty, which meant less awkward stares for Gilbert to have to deal with. Feliciano's strides were steadily becoming slower, and shorter, and his weight was getting heavy on the albino's arm.

"Feli. Don't fall asleep on me just yet." He muttered, nudging the Italian lightly.

"Mm…" Was the only reply he could get out of Feliciano.

He should've known that carrying him would've been the inevitable outcome of his offer to let the boy stay.

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Thanks for reading~!

PruIta? Yes. Yes indeed. I promised cracky pairings at the beginning of this shindig, and I didn't quite feel as if I'd delivered yet. Now I think I'm good. Well… I had _one _more in mind, but my advisor didn't seem all for it, so I figured going without would be better.

Also, I'm thinking of a rewrite of this sometime in the very distant future. Like, years and years in the future. More action earlier on, and less of this wind down now.

I nearly cried when I realized that I killed the Bad Friends Trio's charges. I didn't even notice, and now I just want to crawl into a hole somewhere… or at least I would if I weren't already there for letting this go this long without an update.

Review, yes?


	15. Give me your Hands if we be Friends

Alfred was slumped over the kitchen table, watching the living room, where Sebastian was giving Lien Hua yet another sign language lesson. They'd all been staying in Washington, along with Arthur, until the young nation was ready to go back home.

Despite not having a tongue, Lien Hua was very vocal, attempting any words she could, and she tended to laugh at nearly everything Alfred did, despite Arthur's insistence that she not encourage him.

"So how do you think it's going?" The Brit in question asked, sitting down beside Alfred with a fresh cup of tea.

"Looks like it's going pretty well. I keep telling you, I don't think Sebby's going to pull anything diabolical."

"Well you can't be too sure. And Sebby? Really?"

"I think that in this case you _cahn_ Artie." He mocked just a bit too cheerfully. "And yes, Sebby. It's a good nickname."

"Grow up you bloody git."

The American looked horrified at the thought, and leaned in closer to whisper from behind his hand, "Well I would, but I think with a young lady in the house it's a bit inappropriate, don't you?"

Arthur turned a brilliant shade of red, snarled something unintelligible, and smacked Alfred twice across the face. "You damn wanker! You're getting to be as bad as the blasted frog!"

"Is everything okay in there?"

The two paused mid-epic-battle-of-ferocious-eyebrowed-fury-vs-true-American-heroics© and blinked at Sebastian, who was watching them with a curious stare, matched by Lien Hua's.

"Yes, yes, everything's fine! Go back to your lessons!"

As they returned to their seats, another thought entered Alfred's mind. "Hey Artie. How is it that Sebby's teaching her sign language, but he speaks Serbiac or whatever, and she's Chinese?"

"Oh where to begin with all the stupid things you've just uttered?" Arthur sighed, desperately holding back from dumping his tea onto Alfred's lap. "To begin with, it was _your_ idea to have him teach her in the first place, so you should damn well know the answer."

He glared at the blue eyes staring excitedly back at him. "…Which is?"

"This brings me to point two, which is the answer you're looking for, there's this marvellous thing called Universal Sign Language, which I know you know, because we were all at that conference, and I remember you begging the teacher to tell you how to sign 'want to fuck' so you could pick up deaf girls."

"Oh yeah! I remember that! That stupid teacher wouldn't tell me. Keeping the greatest uses of language a secret from me. The bastard."

There was a long silence, in which Arthur gave him the blankest of all blank stares, and Alfred continued to gaze mournfully at the ceiling. Several times, the Brit opened his mouth to start a new point, only to stop, and sigh in exasperation. Finally he just decided to change the subject altogether.

"So have you heard from Feliciano at all lately?"

"No. Last I heard, he's camped out in Gilbert's basement watching all of his old VHS German Disney movies."

"…Gilbert still owns a VHS?"

"It must be a German thing. Apparently he's too 'awesome' to move into the 20th century."

"21st."

"Huh?"

"We're in the 21st century, Alfred."

"What? Pssh! No we're not! The first two numbers in the year are two, zero. Not two, one. Artie, I think you're getting forgetful in your old age. You're losing track of your years."

"I swear, one of these days, I _will_ beat the stupid out of you."

Alfred opened his mouth to argue, only to be interrupted by Lien Hua running over, and jumping up on the chair on his other side, and poking his shoulder enthusiastically. _He says I'm doing really well_, she signed slowly, sticking out her tongue as she struggled to remember each one.

"That's great news! How about you take Kumajirou outside to play then? I think he's getting kind of bored."

She nodded rapidly, dropping down from the chair, and running down the halls in search for the bear.

"How _is_ Kumajirou doing, by the way?"

Alfred shrugged, going back to slumping over the table. "He gets really quiet sometimes, but at least he's eating now, and having the little one around to play with distracts him, which is kind of a good thing, I guess."

"It is a good thing. I'm surprised Matthew's provinces wouldn't want to keep him."

Alfred started laughing sheepishly at that, slowly turning around so he couldn't see Arthur.

"What did you do?"

"I might've told Ontario that if he came anywhere near the bear, I'd punt him over to the next continent."

"You really shouldn't be threatening your nieces and nephews like that."

"Yeah, but Ontario really is an asshat, so it's okay." He started walking over to the door from the kitchen to the backyard, where Lien-hua was putting on her shoes with one hand, while holding Kumajirou in the other. "Be safe kiddo."

The brunette quickly set Kumajirou back down so she could 'talk' _I will big brother Alfie. I will keep Bear okay too._

_Safe, _he corrected, and then ruffled her hair. "Go ahead."

"You've gotten to be oddly protective of her, you know that? Given the circumstances." Arthur murmured as Alfred watched the two race out the door into the yard.

"I just wanna make sure she grows up to be better than Yao."

"You sure that's all there is to it?"

"Pretty sure. I'm not a pedo like you."

"How many times do I have to tell you that Tino is-"

"It's not about Tino, but that still is totally creepy. But don't think me and Mattie didn't see what was going on with those frilly little dresses."

Arthur was fuming now. "I most certainly did not-!"

"Yeah, yeah. You keep telling yourself that."

The Brit snorted, and turned to grab his coat from where it lay draped over one of the chairs in the kitchen, and started to shrug it over his shoulders. "I'm heading out for a bit."

"Aww come on Artie! You know I'm just kidding… mostly. And we've got plenty of tea, so what could you possibly want to go out for?"

"Oh pardon me for finding _Lipton_ to be a piss-poor excuse for tea. I'm going somewhere to have a cuppa' made by someone who actually knows what they're doing."

His back was turned, so he missed Alfred scrunching up his face, and sticking out his tongue at him. But from centuries of raising the boy, and just being around him, he knew exactly how his immature mind worked, so he had a good idea of what the blond was doing.

Still, Arthur didn't say a word, and walked out the front door, giving Sebastian a nod as he did so, and headed towards his car, planning on going to the coffee shop downtown he'd visited once before with Matthew and Francis. He trusted the tea they made there to be good quality.

And the thought struck him, just as he pulled the vehicle out of park. That was the first time he and Alfred had argued so light-heartedly since the whole mess with Yao had ended. It was nice to see the boy healing.

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That night, Alfred tucked Lien Hua into bed in the guest room that had seen many visitors, from nations, to Presidents, to Sealand. But never had it housed someone he'd been so desperate to hate.

At the time he'd agreed to let Sebastian and Lien Hua live at his place for a while, all he'd been thinking of was keeping a close eye on them, and maybe making life really difficult for them. But the little brunette had been nothing short of a sweetheart from the moment she stepped across the threshold, and Alfred's big-brother complex had kicked in again.

Sebastian on the other hand, was pretty annoyed about the whole deal, and took every opportunity to complain about the situation. But Arthur could usually diffuse him by reminding him that he could always go to France instead and deal with whatever punishment Francis deemed sufficient. The dark-haired nation usually got quiet after that.

Alfred stopped at the doorway of the guestroom, and stretched for a while, before staring blankly at his bedroom across the hall. And now he was met with a dilemma. Go to sleep, or play video games until dawn.

With a shrug, he turned on his heel and headed for the living room. Artie wasn't back yet, and didn't have a key. He had to stay up and wait for him like any good brother…son… buddy…type…thing would do.

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Thanks for reading~!

Most of this chapter was a blast and a half to write! And then after the Lipton joke… I slowed right down. Maybe it's because I moved my writing station to the basement. I should move back to my room.

Well, a lot of countries do have their own sign language, but then there's Universal Sign Language, which… is universal. So I figured that's the one all the nations would know for a situation just like this one. (Convenient, no?)

And finally, 20 more reviews to the grand prize! (Does anyone even want it? -sniffles-) So keep sending them!


	16. And Robin Shall Restore Amends

Alfred woke up, without opening his eyes, but he could still see a bright light streaming through his eyelids, making his once dark vision a blurry reddish-orange. Groaning in irritation at the sudden change in lighting, he rolled over, and away from it, pressing his face into the pillow.

A split second later, he opened his eyes anyway, because he now realized that it wasn't his beanbag chair that he usually ended up using as a pillow when he ended up gaming all night. Had Arthur carried him up to bed or something? He honestly couldn't imagine the Brit doing that, what with his bad knees and Alfred weighing a good two hundred pounds. (It was all muscle damnit!)

"Al? You awake?"

He froze at the voice, not wanting to turn over lest the room be empty.

"Al. I saw you move. Quit trying to be funny, and get up."

Slowly, Alfred turned over to see Matthew standing in the doorway of his room with a dark navy towel over his hair, which was soaking wet, as were his faded Senator's t-shirt, and black jogging shorts. "M-Mattie?"

"Who'd you expect? Geez Al, you look like you've seen a ghost. You weren't watching horror movies before bed again, were you?"

As quick as he could possibly move, Alfred leapt from the bed, and wrapped himself around Matthew, nuzzling his face against wet hair, and damp towel at the same time. "Oh thank God Mattie! Never have coma dreams, okay? They are fucked up beyond all belief, and make you die a little inside."

"Coma dre- Alfred, what the hell are you talking about? Did you get into my stash again? You know you can't handle the stuff, it's too strong! Besides, Will and Z would kill me! That was for their next visit!"

"Long story bro. Just… just lemmie hug you for a little while."

"Al. It's not that I don't appreciate your sudden desire to actually start acting like I'm your brother, and not your personal servant, but you are very heavy, and I just sprinted all the way from Timmie's in the pouring rain, so I'm kind of tired."

"You can sit us down, I don't mind."

"Seriously Al… Get off!"

Pouting, he untangled himself from the Canadian, and sat down on the edge of his bed again, still not daring to take his eyes off of his brother, who was now attempting to act like there was nothing weird about the way Alfred was acting. The only time he tore his gaze away was to grab his glasses from the bedside table, crowing inwardly that he could wear Texas again. Before, his sight had been starting to fail a bit again, but he hadn't yet started wearing glasses again.

"Anyway, our bosses have a meeting with China's today. I think it's about your debt or something. Yao sounded pretty worried about you over the phone."

He tensed at the name, a flash of rage flying through his mind before calming down. "Why would he be worried about me?"

"Well your cold's been getting pretty bad lately. We're all kind of worried that you might take a turn for the worse. I mean, it's not like Yao would cancel the debt completely, even if he could, but I think he's going to be a bit more lenient on you for a while, before you have to start selling states to pay him."

"Right." He shuddered at the thought of having to split up for the sake of money. But none of this sounded right. What happened to the power-hungry China he'd known for the past few weeks? Or had his over-active imagination made up that being entirely, taking nothing from real life? "Hey! Mattie! You wanna play video games?"

"Don't you normally play on X-box live with Kiku? He's a much bigger challenge than I am…"

"I wanna spend time with my favourite broski!" He whined, looking like he was about to start hugging the Canadian again.

Matthew laughed brightly. "Don't let Arthur catch you saying that."

He made a face, and began steering the blond over to the den where his amazing TV sat in wait. "He's no broski. He's a tweedy old man who still thinks he's 'hip'. He's total 'father in denial' material."

"You mean like he's in a permanent mid-life crisis?"

"Exactly. You should see him when he finds his old punk-rock stuff. It's insane! So come on! Let's play Halo!"

"No, what about Call of Duty?"

"Hell no! You'll just get a sniper rifle and kill me fifty billion times! You even do it when we're on the same team!"

Just as they stepped into the den, something caught the hem of Alfred's shirt, and he turned around to see Lien-hua standing behind them, looking apologetic again. Alfred felt his heart sink, and started shaking his head. "No!"

_Big brother Alfie, it's time to wake up._ She signed slowly, biting her lip.

He turned back to Matthew, who was still smiling. "Come on Al! You're not gonna chicken out are you?" He didn't seem to notice the crimson blood that was quickly blossoming through his shirt.

"No! Mattie! Please, you can't leave me again!" He reached for the blond, only to run right through him. As he did so, the room was suddenly filled with the dead nations. All bearing their fatal wounds.

Ludwig's was similar to Matthew's, a simple gunshot to the heart. The others were far more gruesome. From Lovino, who seemed to have an unending flow of blood coming from his mouth, to Heracles and Sadiq, who both showed signs of having been crushed by the falling buildings from the raids. Alfred wanted to cover his eyes, or scream, but he couldn't move, nor would any sound scrape from his throat louder than a whimper.

Just as he was about to start begging his body to move, someone stepped in front of him, blocking the horrific sight from his eyes. It was Lien-hua. _Wake up now. They can't come back anymore, but you can._

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He woke up, this time for real. His face was smushed against the beanbag chair, and someone was shaking his shoulder rather impatiently. He really wasn't all that surprised to see the bright amber eyes of the newest nation staring down at him when he rolled over. _Why are you crying Alfie?_

Alfred lifted a hand up to his face, confirming that it was indeed damp, and rubbed his sleeve over his arms a few times before sitting up, and hugging the girl. "Thanks kiddo."

"Git! If you're awake, let's get a move on! I'd like to be at the conference _before_ lunch, if that's a possibility!"

"Yeah, yeah! Don't worry; you'll have plenty of time to spend with your little boyfriend!" Now grinning, he turned back to Lien-hua. "Well that kind of ruined the moment, didn't it?"

She nodded, but grabbed his hand and pulled him up anyway. Alfred hurried to get changed into a suit, and race out to the car where Arthur was waiting impatiently. The war still hung like a dark stain on all of their pasts, but like so many others, the stains would fade as time went on.

The world continues to move forward.

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Thanks for reading~!

It's over… I feel very empty now…

But, more importantly, I got to the 100th review! Congrats to** Liberty Girl in the Sky**. As promised, a Hetalia one-shot of your choosing. If you don't want it, then it'll go to the next person or something…

Thank you so much for sticking with me for this long, and putting up with my slow updates and such. You guys have no idea how much it meant to me when I saw my inbox explode with reviews the other day. I was halfway between crying and laughing maniacally. I couldn't have asked for more supportive readers, and I'll miss you all!

Oh, and a quick recommendation, just for fun, run over to Youtube, and search the Animaniacs Midsummer Night's Dream. It's so awesome!


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